As the One
by Ellie Parker
Summary: Every thought flew out of my head. There was a sound, echoing through my mind. The sound of violins squealing, squeaking, breaking…the completely chaotic, devastating symphony of heartbreak. My world was shattering all around me as if it had been made of glass. I was so in shock, I couldn't move. I had no control over my senses. I couldn't hear, couldn't speak, I couldn't even cry.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey folks! So uh…haven't written a fanfic in a while but I'm going to stick to this one! (Especially since I have it half-written already and have had it half-written since the Elite came out). I hope you guys enjoy it and completely disregard most of the stuff on my profile page; I haven't updated it since eighth grade, lol. I hope you enjoy my story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the Selection trilogy by Kiera Cass.**

When I walked into the dining room a couple days later the air is thick with tension. This is the first meal I'm having with King Clarkson since my near-dismissal and I still don't know how to act around him. My maids told me to act naturally but I couldn't tell them the real reason of my distress over the king; that he was abusing Maxon.

Maxon immediately met my gaze and tugged his ear, smiling slightly. It was just a slight tug on the edges of his lips but it was still a smile. I nodded and tugged mine back. His smile grew a bit more before his attention was averted by Celeste pulling on his sleeve and whispering something. He laughed and she giggled seductively. I rolled my eyes as I sat down next to Kriss and Queen Amberly.

"I'm glad you're still here." Kriss whispered to me from the corner of her mouth. She was coyly cutting the fruit on her plate, pretending to not be talking to me. "If I had to deal with her by myself I think I would go crazy."

I tried not to laugh at the truth of her statement. "You still have Elise."

Kriss paused and finally looked over at me. Then she sighed and shook her head. "I wish I could tell you." She said sadly.

"Tell me what?" I asked, truthfully curious.

She hesitated before leaning even closer to me and whispering, "Maxon told me that he would be sending Elise home in a few days."

I frowned. "What?" I asked, shocked by her confession. Maxon had said that Elise was a good choice because of her ties to New Asia…but maybe that really was a cover-up for whatever he was dealing with in the war. "Do they have a date coming up?"

"Yes, tomorrow night." Kriss said. "He said the public is getting anxious for another elimination. Natalie's elimination was too understandable. They are craving one that comes from him just not wanting her."

"And they're probably hoping that it's me." I sighed, pulling away from her.

Kriss laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Oh no. Have you not seen the magazines? You're in the lead in the polls."

"The lead?" I repeated. "How?"

"Apparently your performance on the _Report _sparked something in everyone. I know it did in me. Anyone who isn't a Two or even a Three hates the caste system and would love to see them gone. I would." She added the last part very quietly. She glanced at Queen Amberly anxiously.

I considered what she said for a few moments. "Well I guess that's a bit of good news." I mumbled, refocusing my attention on my food.

As soon as breakfast was over I practically ran up to my room and summoned my maids. I recounted everything Kriss had told me. "You don't think that's why Maxon and the king agreed to keep me here, do you? Because they know that I was right?" I asked them.

They all looked perplexed. Mary was the first to answer. "Miss, we've heard a lot of rumors of the sort but what Maxon told you about convincing his father to let you stay was true. Maids that were in the area of their offices that night confirmed it."

Anne sighed. "Speaking of which, we still haven't come up with a master plan."

"It's really not necessary. I can win him over." I assured them.

They looked at each other and I could see the doubt in their eyes. "Miss, no offense, but you haven't exactly been doing that very well as of late. By yourself you're wonderful, but with our help you could be magnificent."

I opened my mouth to say more but a knock on my door cut me off. I was about to go answer it when Maxon walked in. I spun and instructed my maids, "Ladies, please leave us." Before I could watch them leave I turned back to Maxon. "Hey." I greeted breathily.

He smiled, looking nervous. "Hey." He replied. "I feel like we haven't talked in ages."

"Well you've been a little busy." I wanted to sound nice but it came out sounding more like an accusation. "Work and everything." I mumbled, trying to elaborate but just wanting to ease the awkward tension.

"America." He said my name like he was scared he only had a few more times to say it. He looked like he was about to say something but suddenly suggested, "Do you wanna go outside and take a walk?"

I was caught off guard by his spontaneity but recovered quickly and nodded. "Sure." He took my arm and we walked through the palace quietly, not talking. When we got outside I finally spoke again. "How've you been lately? With your father?"

He sighed. "He's still not happy but I'm important to him and you're important to me. He doesn't exactly understand my feelings for you but he understands the feelings I have. He's been in my position before."

I smiled sadly and looked at him curiously. "Kriss told me about you and Elise." I told him quickly. "What about her ties to New Asia?"

He smiled secretively. "That is a secret you will come to learn later…if I can trust you again."

"You can trust me. I've learned my lesson."

"I'm sure, but for my advisor's sake, my mother and father's sake…I'm not taking any chances." There was another awkward moment of silence between us and I wished, more than anything, that I could fix what had happened between us so that things could go back to the way they were before.

"Are you sure you are set on the three of us?" I asked.

"I'm sure. I'm sure that I would love to spend the rest of my life with either you or Kriss. It's just deciding which one is more crucial." He suddenly looked worried. He opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off.

"Maxon, we have work to do today." King Clarkson said, walking up the path toward us. "Or are you abandoning your royal duty?" He raised one eyebrow and looked at Maxon with a challenging glare. I wanted to kill the man.

Maxon sighed and looked back at me. "Maybe we can talk later? There's still so much I have to say."

"Not too much, I hope." King Clarkson snapped quickly. He pulled on Maxon's shoulder and pushed him toward the palace. On the surface, it looked gentle and playful but I could see the way the movement still hurt Maxon and the way it struck fear in him.

I watched them go sadly, walking back to the palace myself. Without Gregory's diary to read anymore, I suddenly found myself getting bored. I walked to the Women's Room and saw that it was just Kriss and the queen inside. Kriss was reading a magazine that Celeste had left in there and the queen was working quietly in the corner.

Sitting adjacent to Kriss, I picked up a book sitting on the table next to me. Kriss looked at me with curious eyes. "What were you and Maxon talking about?"

I frowned. "We were just talking."

"You guys haven't been together in a few days. Did something happen?" When I didn't answer her, she went on. "Something did happen, the night the rebels attacked. Where were you two?"

I sighed patiently and put the book down next to me. Queen Amberly was watching us curiously. "We were in a safe room, hoping we weren't going to get killed." I answered honestly.

"Alone." Kriss added.

"Yes, alone. You and Maxon sit in his room alone."

"What does that have to do with this?" she demanded angrily.

I laughed. "What does that have to do with this? It has everything to with it! I want to win, you want to win, we all want to win. But you're not going to win by knowing what Maxon and I do whenever we're together. Draw all of the conclusions you want but I'll never tell you the full truth."

"I thought you're trying to win over Maxon's trust."

Shaking my head, I answered, "I am, but I'm not that concerned about yours."

She huffed and slapped the magazine closed. "I think I'll go finish reading this in my room." She started to walk about but Silvia entered from another door and called Kriss back.

"Ladies, sorry to interrupt your day but I have another assignment for you." She walked over to Queen Amberly and bowed before taking a couple folders from the desk where Queen Amberly was working. "There is going to be a ball here at the palace in a couple weeks celebrating the king and queen's wedding anniversary. It normally is not such a big to-do but this year it is especially significant because the Selection will probably still be going on. We decided, that as another assignment and to ease some of the queen's stress, we'd have each girl plan a different part of the ball. Lady Celeste will be in charge of the guest list and sending invitations and everything else to do with the guests. Lady Kriss, you will be in charge of the food; taking all of the RSVPs and estimating how much food will be needed and making the menu and arranging serving times." She handed Kriss a red folder. "Lady America, you will be in charge of decorating. We figured you would be best because you do have an artistic background. Table centerpieces, curtains in the ballroom, chair coverings…the whole works. Also, we are placing you in charge of music and entertainment. You all have separate due dates and they are listed in your folders. I will be briefing Lady Celeste on her jobs myself. Any questions?" she asked as she handed me a purple folder. "No? Good luck ladies. Get to work!"

With that Silvia left, leaving Kriss and I in a stunned silence. Kriss immediately opened her folder and set to work, leaving the room whilst reading the notes in her folder. I got two jobs and both were pretty difficult, how did Kriss not get two? She did a lot of the planning for the Italian party we hosted. "I have a few books in my office you could look through." Queen Amberly said, not looking up from her work.

"Do they have a how-to chapter for how to plan your sovereign's anniversary ball?" I asked sarcastically, not even wanting to open my folder yet. It was thicker than some of the books on the shelves nearby.

Queen Amberly laughed. "I know Clarkson is being hard on you, giving you two jobs but I didn't fight him on it because I know you'll be just fine. You can come to me or Maxon anytime if you have questions. Some things would be best to come to me for but I'd rather you went to him."

I smiled. "He didn't learn how to plan parties in prince-school?" She looked up at me with a serious look on her face. Did I insult her? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

She just waved me away and laughed. "No, I was just thinking how perfect you two are for each other." She sighed, packing up her books and folders. A maid standing in the corner of the room came forward and picked them all up. "Thank you Belle, you know where to take them." She smiled to the maid and walked toward me. "Between you and me, I would love to see you win. You handled the situation with Kriss today very well. That is really what convinced me that you should win. If she had said any of that to Celeste or vice versa, they would have instantly gushed what had happened."

"With all due respect Your Majesty, I just didn't want to tell her."

She smiled knowingly. "Whether you know it or not, it was an extraordinary sign of respect for your relationship with him. Like I said, I like you. I know my husband does not approve of you at all but I'm afraid that between Maxon and I, he's outnumbered two-to-one. You could win." She left before I could say anything else.

I didn't need any more reassurance. I had the queen of Illéa pulling for me. I was the favorite in all of the polls from the public. I had Kriss backed into a corner because even though I had the harder job for this assignment, it was something I had a lot of experience from. What did Kriss know about food? I did most of that planning for the Italian welcoming.

After getting to my room, though, I knew that I would need to employ one important person's help with this. Silvia once mentioned that the palace had an official decorator they had hired. He was an artist, a Five. Well, if I was going to be queen someday I would only be comfortable with my own staff that I had selected.

I pulled out a piece of parchment and chewed on the end of my pin, thinking over my words carefully before writing them. This man knew more about which color means what and which color goes best with every color of the rainbow. He had always wanted to vault to the top of the caste system. As the palace decorator, he'd be a Two. I doubted that after my experience in the palace I would be the same and be able to go back to my ways of a Five. I would need someone that understood this luxury I was living to talk to. I couldn't think of a better person to bring in as my assistant decorator than my brother, Kota.

**I know it had a slow start but it will pick up after this chapter. It's just the typical boring first chapter of a book. Please review and I'd love to hear your feedback!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I loved the reviews guys! I promise it'll get exciting soon! For now, on to Chapter 2!**

**P.S. Ruby London is not my real name…I'm experimenting with pen names so don't be shocked when my author name changes.**

"Well this is certainly an upgrade from Carolina." Kota said, shrugging out of his jacket in my room. "Thank you for inviting me sister."

I frowned. "I was hoping that we could do this as a bit of a truce. I'm sorry that I didn't invite you here when Mom and Dad came to visit but honestly, you haven't done much to deserve an invitation to the palace."

"So then why now?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow. He fiddled with the music on the piano, plunking out a couple notes on the white keys that made up a D Major arpeggio. He had a gift for music too but the visual arts were where his heart had always lain.

"Because," I shrugged, "I want to win which means I have to do really well with this assignment. In case you missed it, I really screwed up my presentation on the _Report_."

He laughed, throwing his head back, letting the sound bounce off the walls. "Contrary to popular belief, sister, I do care about all of you. I watched it and I thought you were a fool for acting so rashly, throwing away any chance you had of winning. You're lucky Prince Maxon forgave you."

"I am lucky." I agreed quietly, getting lost in a daze for a few seconds. "Anyway, we need to get to work. This is the folder I got. I figured if you help me with decorating I can handle the music myself with some guidance. I'm sure you have better connections with music than I do."

He looked over the first page of basics in the folder and nodded. "I can make a few calls. It says here that the king and queen's wedding colors were cream and gold. I figure we could repeat those since this is a special anniversary for them. Do you know what kind of food they're serving?"

I shook my head and sat down at the table across from him. "That's not my assignment."

He sprung up and closed the folder. "Well, you need to know. Believe it or not, there is a connection between food and color and that will help determine how we decorate. If they serve food native to Swendway, we can't use Italian colors to decorate. So who does have that assignment?"

"Kriss…Lady Kriss."

"Looks like we're paying Lady Kriss a visit. Do you know who is on the guest list?" Kota asked, leading the way out of my room despite not having any idea where to go to find Kriss.

I sighed. "Lady Celeste." Working with the other girls was not what I'd had in mind. In fact, I was relieved that this was a solo assignment.

He nodded. "We'll have to talk to her as well. When is this party?"

"One week from Saturday." I informed him, pointing it out on the detail page. I led the way to the parlor first, hoping Kriss would be in there and not the Women's Room. Sure enough, she was inside with King Clarkson, giving him an interview from the looks of it.

"What is this?" the king demanded, rising quickly from his chair. "Lady America, who is your visitor?"

"Your Majesty, this is my brother, Kota Singer. He is my decorator." I informed him in an even voice.

He looked angry. "This is not allowed. The assignment is to be done by yourself."

I nodded. "Yes I know. But Kota is an artist, a well-known artist, and has a particular taste for detail. He is here to merely help me. The palace has a personal decorator that the queen uses for the events she helps to plan. What is wrong with me having my own decorator?"

"I think that is an excellent notion." Said someone behind me. I looked back and realized that Maxon was behind me, browsing the bookshelves. So Kriss was in here with Maxon and the king? He walked toward us and extended a hand to Kota.

"Welcome. I was hoping I would get to meet you eventually. I love your work." Maxon complimented easily, smiling brightly.

Kota was stunned but thankfully he remembered to bow. "Thank you, Prince Maxon. That means a lot, coming from you."

He smiled and looked at his father. "Father, I invited Kota. I had been hoping to meet him and thought that since America has two jobs to accomplish, she could use some extra help. The fault is entirely mine."

Why was he doing this again? Why was he taking the blame for my actions, again? A voice in the back of my head told me that I knew the reason but I didn't want to admit it. There was no way he cared about me that much.

King Clarkson lifted his chin and sighed. "Very well then. But he must be gone by the time of the party." He ordered. Kota nodded and we all bowed as the king walked out.

"Well I guess I will go ask the queen about their reception food." Kriss sighed, rising from her chair. She looked at Maxon. "Would you like to come with me?"

"I'm going to stay here. I have work to do and I still need to find this book I'm looking for." He told her, kissing her hand. "I'll visit you later." He promised, letting go of her and letting her leave.

Once she was gone I looked at him curiously. "What book are you looking for?"

"What book are you looking for that would make you come here?" he asked.

"I was looking for Kriss actually. We need to know the menu before we can start making decisions on decorations." I informed him. "Apparently there's a relation between food and color." I fake-whispered to him, trying to ignore my brother watching us.

Maxon laughed. "That is all beyond me. However, I can make arrangements for you to meet with one of the maids from the kitchen who can tell you the details of the menu. There is one in particular that has a special fondness for you that I think would love to help." He said secretively.

"Ah," I sighed. "I would love to meet this girl sometime."

"Is Thursday afternoon suitable for you?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'm sure I can pencil her in." I assured him. I backed away, tugging on Kota's sleeve for him to leave with me. "Thank you Maxon." I tugged my ear before I left, looking over my shoulder in time to see him tug on his ear.

When we were out in the hallway Kota laughed and said, "You know, you can act normally with him when I'm around. There's no need to be so secretive."

I rolled my eyes. "You have no idea." I told him. "Now, I need to go visit Queen Amberly in the Women's Room for right now so go find something to do for the next hour."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he asked me.

"Yes." I confirmed. I knew he wasn't buying my act whatsoever but if I lied to him enough he'd let it go. "Please, Kota. This is important."

He shook his head and sighed. "Fine. I'll go look through the art gallery. Maybe meet with the palace decorator and ask him for his ideas."

"Great idea." I told him as he walked away. Once he was out of eyesight I walked back into the parlor and met Maxon by the bookshelves. "Which book are you looking for?" I asked again.

He sighed and looked at me. "I'm not really. I've just been finding excuses to eavesdrop on all of your plans. Kriss was wise thinking to talk to my parents about the food but she's better off talking to my mother. She remembers more from their wedding."

"Maxon…you said your mother gets mistreated in her own ways. What does that mean?" The question had been bugging me since that night but I regretted asking him the moment I saw the emotion in his eyes.

He shrugged and shook his head. "He just isn't as kind to her as he should be. But she's strong , she can handle it."

I nodded. "I need to talk to her too, about decorations."

"Where's your sidekick?" he asked, returning his attention to the books. I looked at the titles, realizing that half of them were in a totally different language.

I looked at him coyly. "I told him to give me an hour."

"An hour isn't much time, really."

I shook my head. "Nope." I reached for his hand. "So what do you want to do?"

He thought my question over carefully and then replied, "I'm going to help you."

**Not much to say, other than I never want to take another math class in my life! I took my math final today and (minus the fact that I got caught cheating) I'm positive I failed. I'm so bad at math. Any of you have any math mishaps? **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews guys! To lilythemermaid, it wasn't just my math final but my chem final too! I skipped math today so I wouldn't have to find out what I got on it, lol! (Not that I condone skipping class, I missed it for doing student council stuff.)**

"I never thought you'd let me in here again." I said to Maxon, running my hands over the bindings of the books lining the walls.

He laughed and flipped open the cover of a book sitting on the table. We were back in the hidden room where the journals of Gregory were kept. "My father moved the journals out of here to a location that not even I know of. I understand though. I messed up."

I sighed. "Maxon, it wasn't your fault. I'm the one that betrayed you."

He nodded and gave me a wry smile. "I don't really want to talk about it anymore. It's done and I can't help it now. However, you may want to take a look at this." He pulled a journal from the shelf and tossed it to me from behind his back.

I caught it and ran my hand over the smooth leather front. "What is it?"

"Look inside the cover." He instructed, leaning against the shelf to watch me. He had a twinkle in his eye that I couldn't miss if I tried. He had discarded his coat and loosened his tie which made him look even more attractive. Since I'd seen him without a shirt on though, I knew there was so much more to his body than just his casual look.

Following his instructions, I opened the front cover gingerly. "_To Amberly, I hope you can someday open this journal and reflect on the early days of our life together. I love you and wish you the world. I cannot wait to become your prince in two weeks but foremost – your husband. Love, Clarkson_. You're sure your dad wrote this?" I asked.

Maxon laughed loudly and nodded. "Yes, he gave it to her two weeks before they got married. It has all of my mother's personal notes on the wedding in it. You can take a look through it, take it with you."

I raised my eyebrows. "You're sure? You wouldn't want me to make another attempt to change the entire country again."

"Yes, I'm sure. This is just my way of giving my trust back to you. Don't take advantage of it again, okay?" He checked. "I also talked to my mother beforehand and asked her if I could help any of the girls in any way. She said that her journal may be good for you."

"I'll look through it." I said, setting it down gently. "Thank you so much." I reached out to touch his arm tentatively and he smiled.

"Don't be so scared to touch me. I'm not made of glass." He ran a hand over my shoulder. "Really, it doesn't hurt anymore. I think being able to tell you the truth about my father has eased some of the pain."

I smiled and hugged him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. I was about to say something when the door burst open and a guard rushed in, out of breath slightly. "Sir, your father has called for your presence immediately."

"Is something wrong?" Maxon asked, at attention.

The guard hesitated and then said, "New developments from the war…the war in New Asia, that is." He reported.

"Tell him I'll be there right away." Maxon said, hitting a light switch on the wall. The light from the hallway lit our way out and he paused outside the door, holding on to one of my hands. "On Thursday, after you meet with you-know-who, I want to go on a date with you. We'll do something fun, eat dinner away from anyone else…I promise."

"Okay." I agreed, swinging our hands between us. "See you at dinner?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Now it sounds like I'll have work to do. I'll try to see you tomorrow." He kissed my cheek and then walked away with the guard, back to being the prince.

When I got to my room Kota wasn't in sight so I changed into pants and curled up in my bed with Amberly's journal. I had just opened it when a maid who I didn't recognize came in and handed me an envelope. "A letter from home, miss."

"Thank you." I nodded to her and took it. I walked out to my balcony where the sun was just starting to set and opened my letter.

_Sissy,_

_I am happy to announce that you're an aunt to a happy baby nephew, Christopher Riley. He was born three nights ago, at 6:17. 8 pounds 3 ounces. (There's a picture of him inside). Mom and May wanted to tell you but since I'm the mom now I decided that you should hear straight from me. _

_As happy as I am to tell you about Christopher, I wrote to you because I feel that since I didn't get to talk to you when Mom and Dad visited I should at least write to you and give you guidance this way._

_What you did on the _Report_ was foolish. You nearly threw away everything but since I'm your sister and I know you, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and I'm going to assume you had a good reason for what you did. You're a logical person, a smart person, and you're a catch for any guy. I know what you and Prince Maxon may or may not have is not any of my business but you need to remember that even though you are there with other women, no one else has a relationship with him like yours; it's your relationship alone. No one can take that from you. You've been given a second chance with him. _

_Don't waste it._

_Be well…Kenna_

I pulled the picture of little Christopher from the envelope and smiled at the pink, chubby face of the newborn. I stroked the letter, as if that would connect me to my family. I put it in my piano bench and for the time being, completely forgot about Queen Amberly's journal.

**So I'm supposed to be writing an English essay right now that's due on Thursday but since I love you all so much I wrote another chapter. Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't believe you're still here. The maids were talking about what you did on the _Report_…it's a wonder you weren't hanged for treason!" Marlee exclaimed. She was sitting next to me on the floor of the princess's suite and she had all of the notes she could gather about the ball in front of me. As eager as she was to help, she also wanted to catch up.

I shook my head and pointed a finger to the door. "Maxon is right outside." I reminded her in a whisper. She nodded in understanding. "Okay," I sighed, "you want to help me or not?"

"These are what I could get. From what I can tell, she's trying to recreate the wedding menu with a few modifications. Some of the food contrasts with the guest list so there were some changes needed." She explained. "But other than that, I think if you just redo the decorations they had you'll be safe."

I nodded. "That's what I'm going to try to do but like you said, some changes are necessary." I informed her. "Marlee, how's Carter?"

"Oh…he's great! Oh America, even if you don't win, I hope you get married at some point. Even as palace servants it is a wonderful way of living. We almost have enough money so that both of us can have real rings." She told me excitedly. Then she looked sad. "I really do hope you win."

"Why?" I asked. "Sure, Celeste is a nightmare but Kriss isn't so bad."

She frowned. "You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"She apparently mistreats her maids. I heard them talking the other day. She is going crazy with trying to find ways to beat you. If a dress looks remotely like any of yours, she yells and screams at her maids. She hates being compared with you so she takes it out on her maids. It's awful, hearing some of the things she's done. She threw scissors at one of them." Marlee reported in hushed tones.

I sat there in shock. "What? Marlee…you have to tell Maxon."

"It's not my place anymore."

"It will always be your place, Marlee." I said, still in shock. "You were part of this Selection. You are just as much of a Three now as the rest of us."

"No, America, you don't understand." She was still shaking her head. "You have to tell Maxon. He trusts you, he has to hear from you."

I sighed, losing patience. "Marlee, I can't tell him something like that. He thinks so highly of her. If I screw up again, she is his only chance at being happy. I can't ruin that for him."

Her eyes grew soft and she looked at me with doe eyes. "You don't want to tell him…because you love him?"

I bowed my head and felt my cheeks warm. I was about to say something when the door burst open and Maxon ran in. It seemed like I kept getting interrupted. "My father is coming. Marlee, go back to the kitchens. America, we need to move."

I bolted to my feet and barely said goodbye to Marlee before Maxon pulled me out of the room and we started running down the hallway to the landing at the steps. The guards there looked anxious. "Thank you for the warning, gentlemen." Maxon said to them and they nodded their heads to us.

"Where's your dad?" I asked him, looking around frantically.

"He went up the back way." He answered. "Sorry your visit with Marlee was so brief. I hope you got everything you needed."

I smiled at him. "I could never tell you how thankful I am for keeping her here."

"Well you know why now. After knowing the kind of pain she endured, I could not bear to throw her out on the streets. The palace is much safer for them and they'll be much happier here."

I looped my arm through his and said, "So…our date?"

"Why don't you give your folders to a guard to take back to your room?" he suggested, taking them and waving a nearby guard over. He passed them off and the guard immediately started walking toward my room. "Now we can go on our date."

We were in the foyer, standing in front of the doors. Several guards came and opened the doors for us and for a few seconds the bright sunlight streamed through the doors, temporarily blinding both of us. When my eyes finally adjusted, I saw that sitting on the gravel drive in front of us was a car I had never seen before. It was blue and didn't have a roof. It looked really expensive.

"Please tell me we're not going in this." I said in awe.

"Sorry." He smiled brightly and wagged a key in front of my face. "Come on. This is my favorite car."

I gaped as he led me down the steps. "Favorite?" I repeated. "As in, you have more than one?"

He just laughed as he opened the door on the passenger side for me. The seats were white leather. He jogged over to the other side and pulled a pair of sunglasses out from the compartment between us. He smiled at me and started the car. The engine purred. Everything about this car seemed expensive. And he had _more_ cars.

As he started to pull away, I looked around. "You don't need security?"

He shook his head. "But they'll be around. You just won't be able to tell."

"So where are we going?" I asked. The wind tossed my hair around my hair.

"That's a surprise. But first we have to make a costume change. Put on some normal clothes so we can blend in, correct?" He wagged his eyebrows and I couldn't help but laugh. I wasn't used to seeing him so easygoing.

"Do your parents know we're doing this?" I asked him.

He sighed and I could tell that behind his expensive-looking sunglasses he was rolling his eyes. "America, relax. A prince can't leave for several hours without going unnoticed. Which is why we're only going to be gone for several hours." He winked and I shook my head at him.

We pulled up to a small building made from brick. From the looks of it, we were in the back of it. He opened a wooden door in the back for me and let me in. We were in a room full of clothes for every occasion, every kind of weather, boy, girl, adult, child…any kind of clothing someone would ever need was in this room.

A young girl walked through, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. "Prince Maxon, Lady America…it's a pleasure to see you. What do you need?"

"Casual clothes." He said, rocking on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

She nodded. "Let me see what I can find. Prince Maxon, you can use that fitting room over there and Lady America, you can use the one next to it." She started folding clothes over her arms and I looked over at Maxon in confusion.

"We're technically not off palace grounds yet. In the event that a member of the royal family ever has to leave or go into hiding, we come here to get clothes that will allow us to blend in." He explained, walking over to the fitting room with his name on it.

I raised my eyebrows. "You can wear clothes that have been worn before?"

He laughed. "Of course not. These are all brand new and made to look worn."

I rolled my eyes and took the clothes the girl was handing to me. The bottom of the pile consisted of mostly jeans and I could not have been happier. I slid them on with a plaid shirt and tugged them inside a pair of leather boots. I poked my head out of the curtain to see Maxon standing in front of the full-length mirror adjusting his shirt. He was wearing jeans and sneakers with a plain black long-sleeve t-shirt. "Oh no." I laughed, stepping out from my fitting room. "You really aren't going to wear a black shirt, are you?"

He turned and his jaw dropped. "You look…" he stopped, at a loss of words.

I smiled and twirled for him. "Calm down. This is how I dressed on a daily basis back in Carolina." I folded my arms and appraised him. "Maxon, you can't wear black."

"Then what should I wear?"

I walked over to a rack of t-shirts like the one he had on and pulled out a white and blue baseball t-shirt. "Try this one." I tossed it to him and he held it out in front of him, inspecting it. "Just try it."

"Okay." He nodded and then pulled a pair of jean shorts from the rack next to him. "But you have to put these on."

I smiled coyly. "Fine."

We met in front of the full-length mirror again and I stood behind him, pointing out the pros and cons of the shirt I chose and the shirt he chose. "The blue and white softens your skin. You're already kind of pale and wearing black doesn't help."

"Well I like you in those shorts. The jeans made you look too mommy-ish." He informed me.

"Is that even a word?" I laughed, twisting in front of the mirror to look at myself from different angles. "I'm ready for the next part of our date."

He smiled and took my hand, pulling out the keys to the car. "Then let's go."

**Sorry it was kind of dry. As soon as I post this I'm working on the next chapter so between that and the fact that school is over (I'm a SENIOR! Class of 2014!) it should be a fast update next. I'm warning y'all though, I'm taking AP English next year and I have to write two ten-page essays for summer reading and another essay that isn't quite that long but it's long enough so updates might be slow but I promise I won't abandon you guys!**


	5. Chapter 5

Maxon and I sat on our blanket spread at the top of a mountain that looked over Angeles. We had a picnic set up with food just as delicious as it would have been in the palace. I was plucking grapes off their stems as he sipped a glass of wine, watching the sun set. "I'm glad we did this today."

I smiled over at him and admired the way his hair seemed to be the same color as mine in the orange glow of the setting sun. "Me too. That market we went to was nice. It reminded me of home."

"I'm getting the impression that you went to the market a lot at home." He said, pouring me a glass of wine. It was some of the best I'd tasted during my time in the palace.

I shrugged at his statement. "I don't know. I liked the people, interacting with them. We traded certain things. I would give them a painting or sculpture in return for produce or I would agree to play for them at a party or something. It was highly illegal but we never had enough money."

He sighed. "It sounds ridiculous, but I wish I could take away all of your suffering."

"I understand." I nodded. "But I'm glad May and Gerad are young enough to not realize just how hard life was before I came here. They asked why we didn't get nice clothes like some of their friends but they never fully understood how dire it was. For them, it was just life. It wasn't until a few years ago that I really knew how hard my parents worked and how little we still had. Not that losing Kota really helped."

"How's that been? With him being around the palace?" he asked, watching my face carefully.

I took a few more sips of wine before answering. "It's been…pleasant, actually. Since Marlee has been gone, I've missed having that person to talk to about you. Even though Kota isn't the first person I'd choose as a confidante he'll do for now."

Maxon seemed to doze off a few moments. Then he said, "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

I was slightly taken off guard by the sudden turn of conservation. "Ten years is a long time from now." I whispered, swirling the wine in my glass and watching the colors warp in the light.

"Don't do that. Don't shut down on me again."

Sighing, I looked at him sadly. "Unfortunately, where I am and what I will be doing ten years from now is totally dependent on you. But, since your future is a little more concrete, where do you see yourself in ten years?"

"There's something I should probably tell you, I should probably tell all of you but," he paused, looking around, "seeing as you're the only one here…sometime between the time I turn twenty and the time I turn thirty I must serve at least four months in the military. I've already had my training for it because our advisers like to know that I could take care of myself but it's required for every male sovereign in our country."

I looked down. "Why would they force you to do that though?"

"To give us perspective I suppose." He shrugged. "To answer your first question though, it's kind of funny; I see a different future with each of you but one thing remains the same: the country is prospering and strong. With Celeste, I am comfortable. We have one child, a son, with perfect teeth and everything and the country loves us and she loves being queen. Maybe I love her too, but more like a friend than a wife. With Kriss, I am happy. We'll probably have more than one child, three at the most though, and she'll be a good ruler but she'll be a mother before she'll be a queen. She's told me that, multiple times in fact. And I think I am okay with that. I want my children to be raised well and she can ensure that."

He paused before smiling and continuing. "Then there's you. With you, I am euphoric. The palace will be a madhouse with dozens of children running around yet somehow you'll be an amazing ruler and an amazing mom. You'll have regular meetings with Marlee and once you're queen you'll make her the head housekeeper. You and I will eat breakfast every morning together, just the two of us until our children are of age. We'll have adjoining offices and despite that we'll hardly see each other save when we have meetings with advisers. Every night though, we'd put our kids to sleep and then lie together in our bed and read, throw around crazy ideas for diplomacy, gossip about other rulers around the world, or pursue much different activities." He eyed me seductively and sighed. "Pure euphoria."

"So which one do you like the most? I'd think that would make your decision between the three of us easy." I said hesitantly.

He laughed with a hint of frustration. "You know which one is more appealing."

"Celeste?" I joked and he snorted on his swig of wine.

"Yes, Celeste." He was being sarcastic but his eyes were serious. "America, you know I'd choose you in a heartbeat but it's not that simple. In the end, I have to choose between you and Kriss, insanity or stability, what's better for me or what's better for the country."

I looked down. "And that's what is preventing you from choosing me?"

He nodded. "I'm an awful person because of it."

"No you're not. You care about your job."

He laughed quickly and looked down at his wine glass. "Okay, we have one more thing to go to and then we have to get back to the palace." We packed up our food and the blanket and put them back in the car before he drove us down the mountain to the outskirts of the city and then to a vineyard. "This is the palace vineyard. It is where all of our wine comes from."

"What are we doing here?" I asked curiously as he opened the door for me in front of a large, Tuscan villa.

He smiled and took my hand. "You'll see. Actually, you may hear it first." He hinted but didn't say any more.

I was about to ask what he was talking about but he led me through a wrought-iron gate and suddenly I could hear it. Music, but not just any music: country music. My favorite musician ever, Jayme Deen. "Oh my gosh…" I whispered as we went around the back corner of the house and saw that there was a mini stage set up by the pool with the real Jayme Deen playing on it. "Maxon." I was at an utter loss for words.

"Word on the street is that she's your favorite musician." He repeated my thoughts. I nodded and just stared as the smooth acoustic of guitars lit up the night. He tapped my shoulder and held his hands out to me. "May I have this dance?"

I curtsied and took his offer. "Of course." He held me as we simply swayed side by side. I was able to rest my head on his shoulder and study the reflection of the stars in the glassy water of the pool. "I like this dancing better than the other dancing we had to do."

He laughed. "Yeah, me too. But as a Five I thought you'd be pretty good at dancing. I know that's stereotypical but…"

"I understand." I laughed. "I guess I missed those genes." He twirled me around and then brought me back close to his chest. "But with you here to help, I guess I'm not so bad."

"You wish." He whispered as he bent his head closer to mine to kiss me. "This is perfect. This is what I see when I look into my life ten years from now. This is how I see myself feeling but only with you." He whispered intimately.

I shook my head. "Then pick me."

"My father." he grumbled. "The world is working against us."

"It could be worse."

"How?"

"I could be peg-legged with rotten teeth." I couldn't help but giggle at my own joke.

He laughed his adorably ugly laugh along with me. "Yes, I suppose it could be worse." He agreed.

"Hang on." I said as I pulled away from him abruptly. "Your parents are fans of Jayme Deen, aren't they? They had her play at a concert a few years ago." He nodded so I continued. "I could have her play at their party next week. It would be perfect."

He considered for a few moments and then nodded. "That would be great."

I pulled myself out of his arms and walked up to the stage as Jayme finished one of her songs. "Excuse me, but how would you all like to play at the anniversary gala of the king and queen? It's my job to find entertainment for it and I know they've had you there before."

"Really?" Jayme asked, her eyes getting big. "We'd love to!"

"Okay…great! I'll contact you this week with the details and everything. Thank you, thank you so much!" I exclaimed, extending a hand to her.

She laughed. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady America."

I turned back to Maxon who was chuckling. "You're still trying to help me, aren't you?"

"Well no one knows about this date and I happen to be friends with her drummer so I figured I could give you the hook-up." He explained.

We stayed and danced for another half hour or so before he decided we needed to go back to the palace. As we walked back through the main foyer I smiled at him. "I had so much fun today. It was perfect."

He smiled back. "I'm glad I got to do it with you. I think we needed it."

I nodded. "Yup." There was a moment of silence between us as I looked up the steps that led to my bedroom. "I've gotta go and check in on Kota. He's leaving tomorrow so I need to make sure everything is away with him."

"No problem." He kissed me one last time and then walked down a separate hallway and I briefly wondered where he was going. But then I started to walk back up the steps and returned to the world of the Selection.

**I had massive issues yesterday with uploading the last chapter yesterday so that's why I'm technically adding both of these at the same time. Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

_In the city you find faith, in the people you find fear that remind you of your own, let it go. Skin, come off, I've had enough. Skin, come off. – Zola Jesus_

* * *

Kota's departure was uneventful. I didn't shed any tears but I was still sad to see him leave. I promised to write him and tell him how the ball went and he seemed grateful for that. I was starting to get the impression that he was lonely without his family there to entertain him all of the time.

We had finished just about everything so I sat in the Women's Room, pretending to be busy at work but I really watched Kriss and Celeste run around like chickens with the heads cut off. I figured Maxon would at least help them a little, especially since it was his parents' party. At one point, I was alone in the Women's Room and got bored so I went to my bedroom to read Queen Amberly's journal.

_Today I was officially introduced to the palace advisers. I put on a brave face – because according to Clarkson, princesses must be strong no matter what – but they were all so intimidating. I'm not ready to rule. I don't know the first thing about being a princess; I'm only a Four. Before coming to the palace, I had no idea what macaroons are, how am I supposed to distinguish foreign policy from domestic policy? I know I love Clarkson but is he really worth it when I have to take the throne along with him?_

I sat on my bed in my nightgown, absorbing her words like a sponge. Had Maxon read this? Of course not, this was too personal. But this was exactly how I felt. Did the queen know that I was struggling with the exact same decision? I put the journal down and decided to take a nap before reading more.

The next time I woke up it was dark and someone was talking. "Lady America, wake up." Lucy's voice brought me out of sleep as she was lightly shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw that it was still dark enough to be the middle of the night. I was confused over why she was in my room. "Your presence has been requested in Prince Maxon's room immediately." She sounded excited but some confusion leaked into her voice.

"Thank you Lucy." I swung my legs out of the plush bed. Normally I would go to him in my nightgown and robe but it sounded serious and I wanted to look halfway decent. I slid on a pair of pants and a silky shirt with a pair of modest heels. As I walked down the dim hallways to his room I used my fingers to comb through my hair. The marble floors and walls made the clicks of my heels sound even louder in the silence of the night.

My imagination was getting away from me as I was trying to think of the reason he wanted me in his room. Why couldn't he just come to me as usual? Did he want to kick me out? What he proposing? Did he want more than to just kiss me?

The guards posted on either side of his doors were expecting me and I was thankful neither of them was Aspen. I did not have the heart to deal with the conclusions one could draw by me visiting the prince in the middle of the night. One of them opened the door for me and I stepped inside. Kriss's description of his room had been correct but where she saw it as understated, I loved it.

The walls were covered in a rich mahogany. There was a gun rack running the entire length of one of the walls with more guns than I knew even existed. An armoire was sitting in the corner by the doors to the balcony which had thick curtains drawn over them. The wall by the door to what I guessed was the Princess's Suite was lined with pictures that I knew Maxon had taken himself. They were mostly of plants and flowers found in the gardens. Some were pictures of him as a child or of places he'd obviously visited. The bed was huge, larger than the one in my room. It had red drapes hanging all around the four posts making it look warm and inviting. An old marble fireplace was in the corner by the door to another room.

"I have yet to add the pictures I have of you to my wall." Maxon's voice said from another doorway behind me. I spun and saw him slightly hunched over, looking pale. I knew the reason for him calling before he even needed to say anything. "I need your help."

I nodded, feeling numb. He handed me his black box and made his way slowly to his bed. He was just wearing his shirt, untucked already from his pants. He laid down on his stomach and I sat down on the edge next to him, flipping open the lid on the box. Gently, I pulled the shirt away from his back. It was worse than the last time.

Pieces of skin were actually hanging in strips, much like Carter's but not quite to that degree. The fresh welts had reopened the other ones that had just barely healed. "What was it this time?" I asked, speaking so quietly I could barely hear myself.

"Sending Elise home and not you. He's expecting a proposal to Kriss or Celeste in the next couple days." He explained through clenched teeth as I studied his back, not sure of where to start. "Which means I'm going to be married in a matter of weeks and right now, that doesn't sound really appealing."

"Oh?" I winced as I lightly touched one strip of skin hanging out of place. My stomach started to churn. "Maxon, you have to put a stop to this." I didn't miss the hint of desperation in my voice which meant he heard it too. "Stand up to him."

He shook his head slightly, that tiny motion making him moan in pain. "You know I can't. He'll go after you if I do."

I didn't want to answer that statement. I knew that it would destroy him if he had to say goodbye to me again but I knew I was in love with him and it destroyed me knowing that he was going through all of this pain for me. "I have to call for a doctor Maxon. This is too bad for me to help you. You're going to need stitches, at least."

He was quiet and for a moment I thought he'd fallen asleep but then he said, "Tell the guards to send for the head doctor."

I walked to the door and did what he said, poking my head out and instructing them to fetch the doctor. "But please, keep this to yourselves."

When I shut the door, Maxon spoke up again. "Can you please get me a glass of water? I'm awfully thirsty." His voice was muffled by the blanket he was pressing his face into.

"Of course. Is your bathroom through this door?" I asked, pointing to the one in the corner. He moaned out an assurance. I walked in and tried not to be tied up in the fact that I was in a man's bathroom for this first time in my life. The sink had a shaving kit in the corner, toothbrush and paste by the sink. There was a vanity with just a comb, several bottles of cologne and gel in front of the mirror. The shower looked like it was around a corner. The entire room was probably half the size of my bedroom and completely adorned in the same mahogany and dark marble as the bedroom.

There was a glass of water sitting by the toothbrush so I assumed it was the one he used normally. Filling it with cold water, I tried to control my shaking hands. The fact that he was so thirsty petrified me. I knew enough about medicine and health that dehydration is one of the first signs that you've lost over a pint of blood. I could not recall how many pints you would have to lose to bleed out.

Taking a deep, calming breath I re-entered the bedroom and passed him the glass of water. Some dribbled on the expensive down comforter but he didn't seem to notice. There was a knock on the door and I answered it, admitting the doctor.

He nodded sheepishly at me and then assessed Maxon's condition, an audible gasp escaping. "What…how…?" he sputtered and I waved him off quietly.

"Please, don't tell anyone. He doesn't want anyone to know." I asked of him, knowing how much it was to ask but trying to prove my trustworthiness to Maxon.

The doctor collected himself before approaching Maxon for closer examination. Somewhere along the way he must have switched from a shocked civilian to being a focused doctor. He lightly touched a spot on Maxon's back.

He hissed in response and squeezed his eyes shut. I felt helpless, not knowing where my position was in this situation. The doctor then said to me, "Lady America, please put on some more lights." He commanded quietly, cleaning the wounds.

I did as he said and then caught Maxon waving for me to sit by him. As soon as I was in arm's length he grabbed my hand and held on to it tightly, not letting go. My heart broke at the sight of him fighting the urge to writhe from the pain he was in. "I'm so sorry." I whispered so quietly that I wasn't sure it even came out.

He must have sensed that I had spoken though because his eyes flashed open and focused on my face. There was so much emotion hiding behind those eyes that I could not believe he was being so calm. I could see it all; pain, anger, betrayal, fear, sadness…behind all of that though was a fire burning deep inside for revenge. Like this last incident with his father had given birth to a monster that had been hiding deep inside of Maxon, waiting to break free and unleash hell on whomever defied him.

The doctor worked quickly and quietly, only stitching a few areas. He put bandages on and instructed Maxon to visit him in the morning to get them changed. He would need them changed every several hours until they completely stopped bleeding. I graciously thanked the doctor, reminding him again to not tell anyone.

I went back to Maxon's side, expecting him to be asleep but he was sitting up. "I do some crazy things for you." He admitted, grimacing.

I frowned. "Maxon, send me home." I was giving him another chance to do it – and begging him not to.

"No." His voice was firm, not allowing any room for argument.

"Please Maxon, just send me home and marry Kriss." He didn't answer me for several moments so I continued. "She's a good choice for you Maxon. You said so yourself. She's reliable, amiable…not to mention she has the approval of your father and you wouldn't have to go through this for me anymore."

"I'd have to tell her about this though." He moaned, taking a sip of water.

"She's kind, she'll understand." I reminded him. "Please Maxon. I don't want you to sit waiting for me anymore. Not when this is happening to you. I can see that you're hurting inside."

"Which is why I need you to stay." He looked at me sadly. He reached over and put a hand on my knee, much like last time I had to help him with his back.

I shook my head, standing strong. "You can't keep the two of us here to share. You can't just keep us here for your own use depending on how you feel one day. 'Oh, today is Tuesday; I think I'll be America's husband today.'" I imitated. "You have to choose one of us."

"I know!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing throughout the room. "I don't need you telling me that! Since I was a kid I've been told I would have to choose but you know what no one ever told me? That it would be so damn difficult!" He was angry. I could tell just by the way he was holding my leg. I bowed my head and ducked behind my hair. "I'm sorry." He apologized quietly.

I shook my head and stood up. "I understand. Get some sleep." I walked to the door and turned back to say, "At least tell Kriss."

**Okay so I've had this chapter written for months now, that's why it was such a fast update and so long. Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

_Dress like Jackie, act like Audrey, inspire like Lilly, and party like Gatsby._

* * *

I did not sleep much the rest of that night. I could only think about Maxon…the pain he had to be in at the same moment. I could only think about the pain he was putting himself through for me. I could only think about Maxon so much that I had completely forgotten about Queen Amberly's journal.

I heard my maids bustling around my room preparing my clothes and toilette for the day as the sky outside started to turn gray. Closing my eyes, I hoped to sleep for at least a little while before I had to wake up. Sure enough, the next time I woke up the sun was streaming through my window. All of the windows to my room were open as well as the doors to my balcony. My maids were playing cards at the table in the corner.

Trying to go back to sleep, I rolled back over in my bed. The sound of a feminine laugh completely woke me up. It wasn't any of my maids; I knew what their laughs sounded like. A few seconds later was a more masculine laugh and I knew that laugh anywhere. Maxon. Tearing my robe from the end of my bed, I ran to the balcony and saw him walking through the gardens with Kriss.

Something in me started to cry. The gardens had always been my place with Maxon. It was where we first met. It was where we seemed to end up for our dates. They were walking away from me but I could tell that their conversation had gotten serious by the way he led her to a bench. I noticed how carefully he sat down but was still awestruck by the lack of pain he was actually showing.

From the angle I was watching I could see both of their faces from the side. She lifted her fingers to her mouth in a gasp, shaking her head. Maxon moved his hands around, conveying something that must have been difficult for him to explain. Then it occurred to me. Was he telling her about his father's abuse? That had to be the topic of their conversation. Nothing else would make Kriss react like that unless he was proposing but from the look on his face, I thought he was suppressing the urge to throw up.

She moved a hand to pat his shoulder but he quickly grabbed her hand and pushed it away. He laughed nervously but she still seemed overwhelmed. She stood and paced back and forth for a few minutes. She stopped and put her hands on her hips. Shaking her head, she said something that made him bow his head and nod, clearly devastated. I watched her walk back to the palace alone and wondered what had transpired between them. As I watched her walk through the door, I decided that I needed to talk to him.

My maids dressed me in record time and it took all I had in me to not run through the hallways to get to the gardens. The doors to the gardens were also sitting open and I walked down the gravel path to where I had seen Maxon sitting earlier. As I rounded the corner, I nearly ran into Celeste who was coming from the opposite direction. "Excuse you." She snarled, bumping my shoulder purposely.

When I looked away from her back and down the pathway, I saw Maxon was still sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. I sighed and approached him warily. "Maxon?" I asked hesitantly, standing beside him. "What's going on?"

He looked up at me and sighed. "Sit down America." I took the spot next to him on the bench which had not too long ago been occupied by Kriss.

"How's your back today?" I ventured.

He shrugged, just a small lifting of his shoulders. "Killing me. I got the bandages switched like I was instructed but it doesn't seem to help the pain. The doctor is going to prescribe me some pain medicine that I can take."

I nodded and watched him carefully. "I saw you out here with Kriss." I admitted. "You told her?"

"Yes." He moaned. "She took it well." A hint of sarcasm was detectable. "But really, she called me an idiot for not telling anyone sooner and for not standing up to myself. I guess I can't explain to her why I don't stand up to him."

"I guess not." I folded my hands in my lap and sat in the quiet Angeles air. "I'm sorry you even have to deal with this." I said genuinely.

He shrugged. "I've been dealing with it since I was eight-years-old."

My heart broke all over again for him. I was going to say more but then a guard approached us. "Pardon me, Prince Maxon, but the queen would like to talk to you."

"Thank you, tell her I'm on my way." He told the guard, standing up. He looked at me. "Duty calls." He smirked and added, "You should go get ready for the ball tonight."

I laughed. "Yay." I said sarcastically. We parted ways there, Maxon heading to the east exit to get to his mother's office faster. I went back to the main doors for the gardens and was on my way to my room when I heard Celeste and Kriss talking down a back hallway. I stopped around the corner to listen.

"He really showed you?" Celeste asked. They were talking about Kriss's conversation with him that morning.

"Yes, it was awful. Sickening really." Kriss answered. That was a total lie.

There was a long pause. "He's such a coward for not fighting back."

"He said he had his reasons but wouldn't elaborate on what those reasons are." Kriss explained. She sounded annoyed. "I just spoke to his mother. I think its best that she knows."

Kriss told his mother? "I can't do this Kriss. I'm not marrying a coward and a liar. He should have been upfront about this from the beginning."

"And what would he have said? 'By the way ladies, my father abuses me.'" Kriss mocked. "Don't leave me here with America. He's got to make a decision soon anyway."

"I'm only here for the crown, I thought I've made that perfectly clear to all of you. I could honestly care less if he was mutilated. " The sound of heels clicking down the hallway followed.

Kriss was laughing quietly to herself. "Too easy." I heard her whisper. I walked around the corner and saw her standing by herself in the hallway with her hair done for the night but she was just in a robe and her heels. "What do you want?" she demanded.

I held up my hands as a sign of peace. "I just want to get to my room so I can get ready for tonight." I brushed past her but turned and said, "Take it from me that betraying Maxon's trust is the worst thing you could do in your relationship with him."

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" she snapped. "I have nothing to worry about. It's you that should be concerned."

I rolled my eyes. "If you say so."

My maids did an incredible job in getting me ready once again. They put my hair in a low side bun with curls framing my face. My dress was green with silver beading on the bust. It did wonders with my hair and skin color.

The orchestra I'd hired for the formal part of the ball was already playing several dance songs when I entered the main hall. The décor was parallel to nothing I'd ever seen in the palace before. Everything seemed to shine in gold and silver. Everything was sparkling: wine glasses, dresses, jewelry, platters of food, the chandeliers, and even the flowers had a celestial look about them. Kota and I had planned it all but even I could not deny how magnificent it looked.

Men and women turned to look at me as I entered alone, but suddenly Aspen was at my side with his arm looped through mine. "More bait for the sharks." He whispered to me with a chuckle.

"More of a distraction for the sharks." I whispered back. "Thank you anyway."

He nodded in response as he escorted me to the side of the dance floor. A few of the women I had met from Germany were there and greeted me warmly. "Lady America, I'm glad to see you are still here."

"Thank you. I'm glad to be here." I assured them and continued walking until I could find myself some champagne. There were couples dancing but it seemed that most people were talking. I had no idea where to even start with talking to these people. They were all royalty and tycoons and wealthy. They were talking about stocks and shares and I had no idea what either of those were.

I caught sight of Maxon across the dance floor, talking to his new allies from Italy. New allies thanks to Kriss and I. He caught me staring and smiled wide, shaking hands with whoever he was talking to before he walked to my side of the room to greet me. "You look absolutely stunning." He said, kissing my cheek. "May I have this dance?"

"You may indeed." I granted, allowing him to lead me to the dance floor. The music transitioned to an easy waltz, for which I was grateful. "How are you on this divine evening, Prince Maxon?" I asked formally.

He laughed. "I think calling tonight a 'divine evening' was a bit much." His smile grew wider as he pulled me closer. "I am quite joyful though, you?"

"I guess that's one way of saying it." I said softly as I looked deeply into his eyes. I was aware of his father staring from across the room but I pretended not to notice.

"Does this bring back any memories?" Maxon whispered in my ear, his hand slipping down lower on my back.

I shook my head. "You may need to remind me." I answered flirtatiously. "I think Kriss is looking for you." I commented, nodding in her direction.

"Yes. I suppose I should greet her. We'll talk later?" he proposed.

"Of course." I said it as if there was no question. I went to get more champagne and stood, watching his conversation with Kriss.

I returned my attention to Maxon and Kriss. Maxon's expression had turned angry. Kriss looked apologetic and stroked the sleeve of her jacket. Then he turned and looked at me and I realized in that stare that all of his anger was focused on me. He stormed toward me and grabbed me by the hand roughly. "Maxon?" I was confused. His mother was looking at us leaving with great sadness in her eyes. "Maxon, what's going on?" I asked as he pulled me out of the main hall. There were only a few people milling about in the corner.

"How could you?" he demanded, abruptly letting go of my hand and pushing past me.

I turned and faced him. "What did I do?"

"You told everyone!" he shouted. "You told my mother, you freaked out Celeste…Kriss told me what you had said to her. You said that I'm a coward and need to stand up for myself. I've explained to you over and over why I don't…"

"Wait…" I held up a hand. "You think I spread your secret around?"

He laughed darkly. "I know you did it! You've betrayed me in the worst way possible." There was a crowd gathering at the doors leading to the main hall. Queen Amberly was among them, standing toward the front with a hand over her mouth. "I was willing to give you some clemency after the Report fiasco but enough is enough. I can't trust you at all America!"

"Maxon, I didn't do it! You have it all wrong!" I argued. "Kriss told Celeste, and then told your mother. Kriss lied to you!"

He shook his head and gestured to the guards in the corner. "It's over. Kriss is my pick." He waved them forward and soon I was surrounded by four guards. "Go pack your things. I never want to see your traitor of a face again!" he yelled.

I blinked away the tears in my eyes and nodded. "Fine. Take this." I took off the blue bracelet and threw it at him. I waved away the guards and started to ascend the steps myself, picking up the front of my dress so I would not trip. I turned when I was halfway up and saw that he was still staring at me. His mother had tears in her eyes as she looked up at me. Marlee was in the corner holding a serving platter. She was crying too.

"I hope you're happy with your decision." I told Maxon. "You deserve that. I know you deserve to be happy more than anyone on this planet. You'll make a great king one day, and Kriss will be an even better queen. Just remember, who it was you would go to when you needed help the most. Remember who you trusted with all of your deepest secrets in the first place. Remember who was there for you when you had no one else to go to." With that said, I got one last look at the smug expression on Kriss's face and then climbed the remainder of the steps.

I held back my tears until I closed the door to my room. I pulled my little suitcase out of the armoire where it had been since the last time I had been sent home. My maids appeared, all of them in various states of shock and despair over what had just transpired between Maxon and me. They helped me pack what little possessions I wanted to take with me.

It was no surprise that Aspen was the one who agreed to escort me out of the palace. I was quiet in the hallway on the way down. I was instructed to go out the back doors into the enormous courtyard that had a gate to the city in it. The king met me by the doors with an envelope. "Your final payment, Lady America." He said, holding it out to me. As I took it out of his hand he surprised me by grabbing my hand and pulling me close to him so he could whisper in my ear, "See how easy it was for me to break him? See how easy it is to fall, no matter how high you are seated?"

I pulled my hand away aggressively. "Do you see how it easy it is for me to leave?" I retorted. Aspen placed his hand on the small of my back as he led me to my car. It started to rain as he opened the door to me. I took one last look at the palace and up at the balcony of the main hall. Maxon was standing there, watching me as the rain started to come down hard.

He tugged his ear, as if that was a suitable way of saying goodbye to me. I turned my face away, wanting to stay strong in front of him until the very last moment of our time together. As the car pulled around the courtyard I looked out the back window and saw that he was still standing there, his expression haunted.

**Oh no! Again, I've had this written for a while. From here on out I have bits and pieces written already so updates will be a little consistent but hey, that's better than no updates at all!**


	8. Chapter 8

_A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies; a man who never reads lives only one._

* * *

I refused to watch the Report the next night. I laid in my bedroom, looking over the applications to the schools I'd have to attend in order to get a job suitable for my new caste. My parents checked on me but I mostly just stayed in my room, not wanting to let them see me so upset. My room was just as it had been when I left and I hated the idea that I would have to move out eventually.

All of the times I had almost left…now I finally had and I hated it. I missed the palace so much, I missed my maids, I missed the food, I missed the clothes, I missed Queen Amberly, I missed that there was also something to do…but most of all I missed Maxon. I missed him with every fiber of my being. My body actually ached from not being able to touch him, hold him, to feel his skin against mine. I wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about me or if he had just blocked me out like a bad memory. Was his father happy? Of course. But was Maxon happy? Even Queen Amberly looked upset to see me go. What about Aspen, Mary, Lucy, Anne, Marlee, Carter, Gavril, everyone I had become close with? What were they doing?

I figured my maids were now serving Kriss since she said she wanted to steal them. And then I thought about Kriss. A week after I'd gotten home I was brave enough to watch the Report and the two final girls in the Selection were featured with praises from both the king and queen on a job well-done on their assignments for the ball. Kriss, Celeste and Maxon all sat on a couch together as if they were best friends but I knew they were anything but friends.

I hated Kriss. I genuinely hated her. I knew she was the one who told Maxon all of those lies about me betraying him. She was living out my dream, everything I had imagined for my future with Maxon. She was supposed to go home, not me. She was trying on wedding dresses while I was applying for college. She was spending time with Maxon while I was crying alone in my bedroom in Carolina.

It was hard to go from living a life of extravagance to living with my parents. I had received more than enough in my final payment, far more than I thought I should have gotten for all of the trouble I had caused. Far more than what I thought the king would be willing to give me. But maybe the amount of money he had written for me was another message for me to just stay away. My suspicions were confirmed about a month after leaving when I received another check from the palace in the mail with a short note saying, Whatever you need to get used to your new place in life. It wasn't signed but I knew it had to be Maxon's father.

The money my family had received from the Selection had helped their financial situation but they were still living extremely frugally. They insisted that I keep all of my money to pay for school but I snuck money into their wallets when they weren't looking. I was having a hard time readjusting to my family, most of all. Going back to the plain food, plainer clothes, and boring lifestyle of musicians was tough to say the least. They didn't seem to understand some of the things I would talk about with the politics and they drew a lot of conclusions about the king and queen that I knew to be false. My knowledge gleaned from the journals of Gregory Illea was no help with that either.

I ended up so frustrated, in fact, that I had to call Kota because he was the only one who could understand me. Suddenly, I understood why he never talked to us anymore. He had changed by moving up in the castes and there was no stopping that. There was no more to talk about with us as far as he was concerned and I was starting to feel the same way. I almost missed those days of just lounging in the Women's Room with Elise and Kriss and Celeste.

I had just moved into a new place to live by myself. Kota was helping me get adjusted to the new life that I was part of, even inviting me to a few parties he would attend regularly.

Sleeping in my new place was scary at first. I was used to having guards outside my doors in the palace but now there was no protection save a flimsy lock that I needed to get repaired when I found the time. One night in the spring the wind picked up. As I was making dinner for myself I looked out the window and noticed the darkened sky. The wind picked up, sweeping dead leaves down the sidewalks. Weary townsfolk looked up at the gray clouds and hurried home.

It started raining just as night fell. There was thunder in the distance but it seemed to just hover over one place really far away. I was in the bathroom when I started to hear the screams. I bolted to one of the windows and saw a mob of people with torches marching down the street. Some had guns, some were empty-handed. I didn't need any explanation; I knew these were rebels. With no safe room in my apartment though, where was I supposed to hide?

They started busting down doors to apartments along my street so I ran and hid in my closet. I held my breath as I heard them enter my building and tear apart the apartments below me. Then there was the sound of wood splintering as they kicked down my door. They were quiet as they searched my apartment, probably sensing that I was there. Then I heard one of them whisper, "This is her apartment. Look at these checks from the palace."

"Has to be her." a female voice answered. The door to my bedroom opened and I only had seconds to prepare myself for when they opened the door to my closet. The door was thrown back and I was face-to-face with the same girl I had seen in the woods that day I had gotten lost when the rebels attacked. "Well, well, well. It's nice to see you again, Lady America." She growled. Before I could answer, something was sprayed in my face and everything went black.

* * *

I was rocking. Not a smooth, steady rock but a bumpy sway. My hands were bound to something solid in front of me. I was on my knees. I could hear a loud clapping sound, like wheels hitting planks of wood. It also felt like I was moving forward. The only thing I could conclude from that was that I was on a train.

I shook my head to try to clear some of the fog but it only made the pounding worse. I opened my eyes and saw that I was in a train car, surrounded by rebels. "So this is how you guys get around." I said aloud.

The girl that had captured me approached me. "Good, you're awake. Now the fun can start." She sounded menacing. I shrunk back involuntary.

"Just tell me what you want." I demanded, trying to sound tough but my voice was shaking. It was cold. So cold. I could see my breath.

She laughed, along with a few other rebels. "You see Lady America, we wanted you to win." She explained. That shocked me, I'll admit. I thought they wanted to end the Selection. Why would they be cheering me on? "Your idea to eliminate the castes was brilliant, along with a voluntary draft. Those are ideas we support. So here's the thing: you didn't win, but we're returning you to the palace. Whether you get there dead or alive depends solely on your cooperation."

"If you want me to be your princess, what's the point of killing me?" I asked them.

"To make a point." She laughed again. "Usually we'd just kill you…but you, you have valuable information. Information that we've been tearing that palace apart to get our hands on."

I was so convinced that I had been taken by Southern rebels but it was the Northern rebels who everyone thought was looking for something, right? "What do you want to know?"

"First, let me explain something. Your boyfriend, Maxon, the prince and all that, he's going to come look for you. See that camera? Sending a live feed straight to the palace. Just a little thing to make you feel at least hopeful. But just so you know, the palace has yet to thwart this plan." She sneered at me and raised a cane in her hand. I started to shake all over at the sight of the weapon. "So, where does Maxon keep all of Gregory's journals?"

"How would I know?" I asked. "That's classified information. None of us were allowed to know."

She smiled knowingly at me. "But you do. You know. You had one of the journals. So, where do they keep them?"

"I don't know." I looked her in the eyes with hate, practically spitting the words.

"Fine then." She said, passing the cane to a burly man who whipped it back and forth. "Let the fun begin." The man walked behind me and ripped open my shirt. He even ripped off my bra. I cringed, waiting for the blow. "Wait!" The girl held up a hand. "Rape her first."

I stared at her with wide eyes as the man behind me chuckled. "No, no please!" I begged, tears springing in my eyes.

"Tell me where the journals are kept." The girl growled, bowing to be at eye level with me. I shook my head as the tears fell down my cheeks. "Your choice."

The man tore off my pants and soon was completely naked save what was left of my shirt covering the front of my body and my underwear. As the man's hands moved over my body I started screaming. "Maxon!" If that camera had sound on it, I was praying that he heard me and would come for me. "Maxon, help!"

"That's it." The man whispered in my ear. I was shaking uncontrollably. He was running his hands up and down my arms and I turned my head away from him, only being able to register his dirty hands and the smell of bad body odor. "Nice and easy, Lady America."

I closed my eyes, hoping that what was coming would be over quickly. My body shook from my sobs but I couldn't move, I couldn't even twist around to bite him. Suddenly, the train halted to a stop, throwing everyone forward. The sudden stop made me fly backward and pulled uncomfortably on my shoulders as I strained to not be ripped off the pole.

"Guns at the ready!" the girl ordered, righting herself. Someone turned the dim light in the car off, everyone went silent except for the click of guns being locked and aimed. The doors on both sides of the train flew open but no one was there.

Then, out of the darkness, came maybe twenty soldiers swooping in on both sides. They were armed too and picked off the rebels quickly. I shielded my eyes from the scene but soon I heard boots thundering around me. The light was turned back on and I saw palace soldiers throwing the dead rebels off the train and other rebels being gathered by the guards. The girl and the dirty man were among those being tied up.

The guards were dressed in all black with black masks on, black backpacks and black guns. One approached me and I started to squirm away but he knelt down in front of me and put a hand on my shoulder. Then he pulled off his mask. My heart melted.

**Who is it, who is it, who is it?! Review por favor!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, real quick just because of some of the reviews I got: maybe the raping thing was a little harsh but I'm just experimenting with my comfort zone in my writing. A lot of what I write on here is just a test run for stuff that I put in my original work to see how people react to it. Sorry. That said, I think I'm going to move up the rating to M from T, just because I see it as necessary. If you can't handle it, then it's totally your choice to read it and I won't be offended (I don't really know you) but I've read a lot of worse stuff on here.**

* * *

_If you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely._

_-Roald Dahl_

* * *

Maxon.

Maxon had come for me after all.

He pulled a blanket out of his backpack and wrapped it around me. He then moved to untie my wrists and ankles. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, like I was a life-preserver in the middle of the ocean. I felt his lips in my hair. I clutched the front of his jacket as I cried and shivered. "It's okay now, you're safe. I've got you." He whispered to me over and over again.

Someone walked toward us. "Which one do you want me to save for you?" That was Aspen's voice.

Maxon's head lifted up from my hair as he answered, "Those two. But take them all back to the palace." Which two was he talking about?

"How's she doing?" Aspen asked. Maxon didn't respond out loud – I was left with the sound of Aspen's retreating boots.

Maxon pulled my face away from his chest and asked, studying me carefully, "Are you okay if we move?"

Unable to find my voice, I nodded. I still couldn't look him in the eye. He put a coat around my shoulders. "Officer Leger wanted me to give you this." He explained. There was something hidden in his voice, an emotion I didn't recognize.

How ironic that I was wrapped in Aspen's coat but held in Maxon's arms. I closed my eyes; wanting to shut out the world and just be surrounded by Maxon's warmth.

* * *

Hours, days, or maybe weeks later, I woke up. The sun was streaming on to my face, warming my cheeks. I blinked a couple times and realized I was in the hospital wing of the palace. I moved my head from side to side, stretching my stiff neck. There was a stack of books and folders on the table next to my bed. A chair with a rumpled up pillow and blanket in it was also there.

"You're awake!" someone close by exclaimed. I turned my head to the voice and saw Maxon running toward me. He pulled the chair close and looked at me seriously. "How are you feeling?"

"Thirsty." I whispered. My voice was rough.

"That should be better in no time. You have an IV." He nodded to the tube in my arm. "I'm so glad I found you. I was so scared. When they said Carolina was attacked…" his voice trailed off, realizing that I probably didn't want to talk about it. "But anyway, your family is safe and we wrote to them to tell them you're safe as well."

I nodded. "I'll be out of your hair by tomorrow." I promised.

"No. You're staying until I send you home." He argued.

"The Selection is over for me Maxon. I can leave any time I want."

He shook his head and rubbed his jaw, which led me to notice his overall appearance. He hadn't shaved in a few days and there were shadows underneath his eyes like he hadn't slept in that long either. His hair was shaggy and sticking out in random directions. His clothes were wrinkled.

"How long have you been here?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "You've been here for about two days. It was a full night of travel by truck from where we picked you up. And yes, I've been here ever since." He nodded to the books. "I've been multitasking."

"I'm sure Kriss and Celeste are loving this." I rolled my eyes.

"Actually," he fiddled with the button on his sleeve, "they have no idea where I went. In fact, they think I'm still on a business trip. "It turns out, Kriss is not the person I thought she was. She lied to me about you." He paused, as if was about to say something difficult to say. "I got mad at her. When my mother said that it was Kriss who had gone to her about my father, I knew that she'd lied to me. Then when I found out the rebels had taken you, I wanted to blame her and I got so angry…I wanted to hurt her."

I shook my head, knowing where he was going with that. I sat up a little straighter. "Maxon, you're not your father." I whispered.

"But I was raised by him. How could I not end up like him?" I didn't answer. I knew he was being rhetorical.

"So back to square one?" I asked, changing the subject.

He shrugged. He got quiet and I was about to go back to sleep when he whispered, "I'd like to try again. You know, to try to date you again." I didn't know how to respond. I decided keeping my mouth shut would be best. "But we're going to do it my way, which includes keeping you far away from the Report." He gave me a wry smile.

I shook my head. "Even after that rebel tried to…" my voice trailed away and I started to tremble uncontrollably. I didn't want to finish that sentence. "You still feel the same?" I clarified as he moved to perch on the bed next to me, taking my hand in his.

"Knowing how close I was to losing you," he paused, shaking his head in disbelief, "my feelings for you are even stronger." He leaned down to kiss my forehead as I started crying.

"I knew you'd come for me." I sobbed into his chest.

He stroked my hair and planted kisses on my head. "I'll always come." He promised. "Marry me." He whispered.

I half-laughed half-sobbed. "Okay." I agreed, knowing that I would never be able to say no to him.

I was released from the hospital the next day. My maids were so close to tears when I came back to my room that I was scared I would have to comfort them. While settling back in to my bedroom, there was a knock on the door. Before Lucy could answer though, it opened and Maxon strode in. "Good morning ladies. Mind if I have a moment with Lady America?" They all curtsied and immediately left.

The moment we were alone I walked up to him and hugged him tight, breathing in his wonderful scent. "I could never thank you enough." I whispered as he ran his hand through my hair.

"I could never apologize enough." He pulled away and handed me Queen Amberly's journal. "You never got to finish reading it. Mother said to give it to you right away, that it could still help you."

I held it in my hands and sighed. Finally I shook my head and passed it back to him. "I don't need it anymore. I got what I needed from it."

He looked confused but gave in. "Okay. Mind if we talk a bit? I have some explaining to do."

I nodded and led him to my balcony. We sat on the chaise lounge together, with his arm around my shoulders it felt like I was born to live in that moment. "So what do you have to explain? I forgive you Maxon. I know that if I were in your position I would have done the same thing."

He shook his head. "No, it's not that. A few nights ago we received a message from the rebels just saying 'We're coming,' the usual, you know? Well then we got word of Carolina being attacked. When my mother found out that it was your particular street that had been attacked, she said it was no coincidence. You see, shortly after my mother and father were married, rebels attacked the province of one of the Elite and took her, killed her, and left the body on the front steps of the palace. Our advisers think it's their way of choosing who should have won. When we found out Carolina was attacked, we knew."

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "There was no choice for me; I was going on the rescue mission for you. But there was one officer in particular that was especially eager to go with us. I think you know which one. It didn't take me long to connect Officer Leger to you and realize that it was him who you were dating in secret before the Selection. His concern for you was parallel to mine. I was gracious to him. I told him that he could stay on as a palace guard but he would only be on night rounds and be far away from you. He understood but that's not to say that we didn't bond when we were trying to find you."

"I'm so sorry. That's something I should have been honest with you about from the beginning." I interrupted.

He sighed. "No. That's one lie I can accept from you. It was painful for you to talk about it. I had my suspicions anyway." He waved me off. "Anyway, when we arrived at your apartment, they left a message all over the walls: we've come. We took off right away, searching the only means of transportation to Angeles and found the train from there. And you know the rest."

"And…Officer Leger?" I asked tentatively.

Maxon laughed. "He's enjoying the interrogations of the rebels that tried to kill you. He said that if he can't have you, he'll settle for killing the people that wanted to harm you."

I shivered delicately and breathed deeply. "So, this has happened before?"

He nodded. "Yes, unfortunately. I guess the rebels really wanted you to win."

"They did. They told me they were going to kill me and leave me at the palace. They said that they loved my ideas for the country. Of course, I'm not sure I'm a big fan of them myself after hearing her say that."

He laughed. "You would think that." He reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "How are you doing?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

"I'm good." I insisted, smiling.

Frowning, he said, "America, you don't need to do that for me. You can talk to me about it. I heard most of what happened before we broke into the train car."

I looked down as tears gathered in my eyes. "I can't sleep." I admitted. "I can't close my eyes without reliving it all. The smell of that man, the grime under his fingernails and in his teeth…it's too much." I finally broke down crying and folded my head in my arms.

Maxon half-draped himself over me as he moved closer to me and wrapped me in his arms even more. He rubbed my back and shushed me. "It's okay. You're safe now. We've killed him, he can't touch you."

"But I've never done…I'm a…" I couldn't finish a whole sentence and my hiccups got worse.

"America, look at me." He said, placing two fingers underneath my chin and turning my head so I had to look at him. There were tears in his eyes. "I love you." He whispered. "I love you, so much." He said it louder the second time, sounding more confident.

I sobbed even more. "I love you." I admitted. For too long, I'd been holding it in.

"Really?" Maxon joked. He laughed and put Queen Amberly's journal back in my lap. "Finish it. Maybe, for our next date, we can read together. Father has decided it's time I read Gregory's journals so we can read them together."

I nodded. "Sounds perfect."

**I feel like I end a lot of chapters like that. Oh well, review please!**


	10. Chapter 10

**To answer some of your questions because it seemed you guys all asked: did Maxon really propose at the end of the chapter?...I used him saying that as a way of him making sure that she wanted to stay and give them another chance. Kriss and Celeste are still in the picture. If he proposes to her, it will be more formal and you guys are going to fall out of you chair because it's so romantic.**

**P.S. THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M!**

* * *

_When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew. – William Shakespeare_

* * *

I peeked over the top of the journal and caught Maxon looking at me. "What?" I asked, wondering what he was so interested in.

"You're beautiful, you know?" He complimented. "I was just watching you as you read and you are even more beautiful. I wish I had a camera to capture you right now because in this light…" his voice trailed off.

I frowned and laughed at the same time. "It's cloudy. That was a load of crap." I stopped laughing as I looked back at him. I understood what he said because I had been watching him read too. He kept his eyebrows pushed together and he chewed on his bottom lip and sometimes scrunched his nose. "I thought you wanted to come out here to read."

"I'm reading you." He teased. "And I'm getting the impression that I'm kind of freaking you out."

I shrugged. "In a good way. I've never had a guy study me like you."

He paused for a few seconds before asking, "Do you paint?"

Sighing, I nodded. "Yes. I used to paint stuff for my little brother Gerad because he's really bad at it. Basically anything to do with the arts he's bad at which, as you can imagine in my family, does not go over too well with my parents. I would do his work to make sure he wouldn't get in trouble with our dad for not doing his work."

"I wish I had an older sister that could do that for me." He mused, his eyes shifting to look at something in the distance. "I think it's about to rain. Do you want to go inside?"

I placed my bookmark in my book and nodded, uncrossing my legs and standing up in front of him. I felt a few raindrops dropped on my head. "But where can we go? I'm not ready for this to end."

He considered my statement for a few seconds as he stood next to me. The rain started to fall harder. "We can go to my room." He proposed, sounding slightly tentative.

"Really?" I asked. "I haven't been in there since…you know." I didn't mean to bring up the last incident with his dad.

He waved me off. "All the more reason to go now." It was starting to rain more steadily. He took off his coat and wrapped it around me. "Don't want to mess up your pretty dress."

Right then, the skies seemed to open up and the steady rain turned into a downpour. We both let out different sounds of exasperation. "Run!" he laughed, tugging on my hand and pulling me toward the palace. I pulled off my shoes and ran barefoot behind him.

We laughed the entire way and we pounded on the doors until a guard let us in. We spilled through, dripping water on the marble floors. He placed a finger over my lips to warn me to be quiet as he pulled me through the hallway to the grand staircase.

When we got to the floor his room was on, he pulled me in for a kiss suddenly. I pulled away after a few moments and asked, "What was that for?"

"I love you." He said quickly, in one breath.

My breathing hitched. It wasn't the first time he said but it was the way he said it. There was so much more emotion behind his voice than ever before. So much heated desire hiding but leaking through. "I love you too." I answered quietly, staring into his eyes with wonder.

He smiled before crashing his lips on mine. We pressed against each other as close as we could get but that wasn't enough for him. I could tell he wanted more. He started leading me to his bedroom door and I was so in love in that moment that if Aspen was a guard outside his door, I wouldn't have noticed.

Once the door was closed he backed me against it, trapping me in a move so possessive it was like I was the only person in the world he knew and if he let go of me, he'd lose me forever. He kissed a trail of fire down my neck and shoulder, starting to breathe heavily. "Maxon, we can't do this." I moaned as he started to slide one of the straps of my dress off my shoulder.

"I think we're at the point of no return." He grumbled into my shoulder. His lips were dangerously close to my breast.

I sighed as he rubbed his hands up and down my back. "It's against the rules."

"Then marry me America." He whispered. He pulled back to look deeply into my eyes. "Give me tonight and I promise you that by tomorrow night, we'll be engaged."

My mind was so foggy with euphoria I couldn't think straight. I was vaguely aware of nodding before he picked me up and carried me to his bed. He pulled the zipper down on my dress as I worked on the buttons on the front of his shirt. We were both breathing heavily and we were both kind of laughing at ourselves and our inexperience with this. When we were both nearly unclothed, we stopped laughing and got serious. He stared at my body in a way that almost made me squirm with anticipation.

"I love you." He whispered, almost out of breath.

I nodded and looked at him with wide eyes as he lowered himself closer and closer to me until I could feel all of him. My stomach was flip-flopping and I couldn't keep my toes still. They tickled the lower parts of his legs.

He pulled away and looked at me, his face just inches from mine. "This may hurt at first." He warned. "But I'll be gentle, I promise."

He was giving me one last chance to leave. I didn't want to go anywhere though. "I'm sure Maxon. This is what I want."

He smiled a dorky, lopsided smile and then that was it; we became partners, lovers, and soul mates. Looking back on that night in my later years the details would fade but that smile would always be sealed into my memory. Even after he was gone I would remember that smile.

Early the next morning, when the sky outside turned from black to dark blue I snuck out of his room. He had given me a pair of his pants to wear and an undershirt. He kissed my passionately in his doorway before I left. "In less than twelve hours, we'll be engaged to get married." He promised.

I giggled and bit my lip coyly. "I feel like we're already married."

"Technically speaking, after last night…we are." He teased but his face was serious. I didn't miss the blush that arose in his face though.

"Will I get to see you tonight?"

"Same time, same place." He winked and then shut the door with a quiet click. I crept through the halls back to my bedroom. There was a different guard outside my door and he let me in, not bothering to ask any questions about my appearance or where I had been all night.

**Sorry it was so short! I promise the next chapter will be longer. Please keep reviewing!**


	11. Chapter 11

_A little consideration, a little thought for others makes all the difference. – Eeyore_

* * *

I slept for a few hours and when I woke up the sun was streaming through one of my windows. As I made my way to my bathroom, I noticed that I felt a little stiff and cramped. After turning the hot water on in my shower, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I didn't look any different – at least not that I could tell. But there was something in my eyes…like they now lacked their usual innocence.

As I went to go to the bathroom I pulled out a tampon, contributing the feeling of being cramped to my cycle which was coming up. Then a horrifying thought came upon me. Forgetting completely about the shower running and the urge to use the bathroom, I ran out of my room to Maxon's. I didn't even notice until halfway there that I was still wearing his clothes.

When I got to his room his door swung open and he was standing there, the light streaming into the hallway from the windows on the other side of his room. I approached him and stood in his doorway, surprised to see him fully dressed already. I smoothed my hair. "We have a problem."

He nodded. "I know." He told me, seeming just as unnerved as me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me inside his room, closing the door behind me. "I was on my way to see you."

"Yeah." I sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at him nervously. "So…you're thinking the same thing as me?" I asked to clarify.

"If you're thinking that we weren't exactly safe last night, then yes." There was a tiny bit of horror. "You don't think though…I mean…it was just one night."

I raised my eyebrows. "But certainly more than one time." I reminded him. "Look, this is what I know: I'm supposed to get my cycle in a couple days and that's…well, that's when women are most fertile. But that doesn't mean anything."

"When will we know?" he asked, crossing his arms.

I shrugged. "A month, maybe two." I answered honestly. He let out a long exhale and sat down on the bed next to me. "Maxon," I started, looking away from him, "I understand if you're freaked out and don't want to have to worry about this so just say the word…I'll go. Don't feel obligated at all. I can handle this myself if I have to."

"What?" he quickly cut me off. "America Singer, you listen to me, I still want to marry you. And don't think I'm going to abandon you because of this. I love you and I always have. You could kill me and I wouldn't stop loving you. This…this is not a big deal. I knew I wanted kids with you at some point and maybe it's a little soon, yes, but I'm no less grateful."

"Maxon, we're not married. Or even engaged yet. What is the public going to say?"

He shook his head. "I could care less about them. It's you that I care about. The public can make their assumptions if they want but you know what I say? The sooner we're engaged, the sooner we're married. So let's get engaged."

I stared at him with tender eyes. "Okay. Let's get engaged."

"Go get cleaned up. I'll tell my parents. Tonight, we're going to celebrate." He moved closer to me and kissed me on the cheek. A knock on his door interrupted us. He motioned for me to stay put and went to answer it. He kept the door closed enough to keep me hidden. "Kriss." He gulped in surprise. "What're you doing here?"

"I just wanted to see you. Is it a bad time?" I heard her say from behind the door. I eased myself off the bed and tiptoed to hide behind the door frame. Through the crack I could see her standing there, looking at him flirtatiously.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Somewhat. I need to get dressed and shower and everything." He lied.

I saw her eyes go up and down as she looked at him. "Um, Maxon, you're already dressed."

"Oh, yes!" He laughed nervously. "I'm just so tired…I was in a daze. I don't think my socks even match so I'll go check and I'll let you go on your way."

She eyed him curiously. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Of course not! Like I said, I'm tired. Just, go back to your room. I need some time to myself right now."

"Can I see you later?"

"I'm sorry. I'm really busy today…" he started to explain but she quickly cut him off.

"I get it. You want to spend more time with America. I'll just wait until dinner to see you." She said sadly. Before she left she pecked him on the cheek. Within seconds of her departure Maxon had the door shut.

I exhaled and laughed in disbelief. "You are an awful liar." I told him.

"Yes, I know." He laughed. He suddenly wrapped his arms firmly around my waist and spun me around. "Forgive me for not being more overjoyed today. It's just the looming fate the conservation I have to hold with my parents later."

I rubbed his arm comfortingly. "Well, just remember, we're going to be engaged tonight."

"I like the sound of that." He kissed me on the forehead and as much as I wanted more, we both knew in that kiss that we couldn't risk anything again until we were officially married.

* * *

"Lady America, you and Lady Kriss are to report to the parlor room at five o'clock sharp tonight." Silvia said, handing me a small envelope that I was sure said the exact same thing inside. "Your maids know how to dress you."

I frowned. "What about Lady Celeste?"

"Prince Maxon has sent her home." She told me. I looked up at her with sharp eyes.

"Is this it? Is he proposing?" I sounded a little too excited. I wasn't supposed to know that I would win so I should have sounded more nervous.

She eyed me curiously. "That is for you to later find out."

She walked away so I closed my door as I read the card inside the envelope which, sure enough, said the same thing Silvia had just told me. It also had directions for how to get there on the bottom. It was written in King Clarkson's handwriting and I could only imagine what was happening when he had written it. Had Maxon already told him who his choice was?

There was another knock on my door. I opened it and was greeted with Queen Amberly. "Your Majesty." I curtsied and stepped back from the door as she walked in.

Her eyes swept through the room, taking in everything. "I remember staying in these rooms. It felt like I was a princess…and then I became a princess." She sighed and turned back to me. "You're going to know how that feels in just a few days."

"So, Maxon has talked to you?" I asked reluctantly.

She smiled at me and came forward to put a hand on my cheek. "I could not be happier with his choice in you. I think you both will be the best monarchs this country has had in a long time."

I let out a long breath and laughed nervously. "Thank you so much."

"Now, Maxon also told me about last night. He only told me, Clarkson has no idea and we both agreed we should keep it that way. That's why I came here to talk to you." She prompted. "Now that you're going to be part of the family there are a couple things you must understand: first, Maxon's relationship with his father is confidential, spoken about only between the four of us. Second, whether you are pregnant or not, you will be getting married in three weeks. Do you understand?"

I nodded, not knowing if she was really as critical of me as she sounded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Oh Lord, America, called me Amberly! You're going to be my daughter-in-law anyway!" She surprised me by hugging me and rocking us back and forth. She pulled away and walked out of my room. "Now I suppose I ought to leave and let you get ready." With that she left, leaving me breathless and jittery with excitement.

**It was a little short, I know. It was going to be a lot shorter but then I realized that I'd forgotten to insert half of this from my phone...whoops! Anyways, it doesn't matter because it's all here now but really matters is all of these awesome reviews I've gotten so please, keep reviewing! **


	12. Chapter 12

I stood next to Kriss in one of the lavishly decorated rooms in the palace that really didn't have a purpose. She looked confident, with a smile tugging slightly on the edges of her lips. We were both dressed in red dresses of various designs for the occasion. Maxon had instructed our maids to dress us in green. He had told me to act natural but how could I? The man I loved was going to propose to me with minutes. As the cameras and lights were being turned on, I looked over at Kriss.

She was smoothing her hands over the ruffles of her dress. Her hair was down and swept to one side. She hardly had any jewelry on. She looked like the earlier version of myself, the version of myself that had been transformed by Maxon's love. My dress had silver jewels covering the bodice and I had heavy earrings in. My hair was in a retro low bun style, slightly off my neck.

"Hey Kriss?" I whispered, trying to keep my lipstick from gluing my lips together. "Good luck."

She looked at me with a smile so bright it was like she knew she had already won. She didn't have time to say anything because at that moment the doors opened and in walked Maxon with his parents. He took his place in front of us as the cameras started rolling.

"Lady Kriss," he nodded to her, "Lady America." His eyes were fixed on me for a little too long and I blushed lightly. "Over the course of these months, I've developed strong feelings for both of you." He looked us both in the eye. "But I can't marry both of you, and over these past few days I've come to realize that my feelings for one of you are much stronger, strong enough that I know I can't live the rest of my life without you. The job you're marrying into is not easy to handle but I know I can trust you with my deepest, darkest secrets and I know that you also feel the same way about me. We'll have our fair share of ups and downs but we'll return to each other at the end of the day because we've already done that once or twice before. With that said," he paused and held the box with the ring in it tightly in both hands. The entire time he spoke I listened because I had no doubt in my mind that every word was meant for me. He looked at me and held my gaze before flicking his eyes to Kriss. He took a deep breath. "Kriss."

Every thought flew out of my head. There was a sound, echoing through my mind. The sound of violins squealing, squeaking, breaking…the completely chaotic, devastating symphony of heartbreak. My world was shattering all around me as if it had been made of glass. I could almost feel the shards of glass digging into my skin as they flew around me. I was so in shock, I couldn't move. I had no control over my senses. I couldn't hear, couldn't speak, I couldn't even cry.

My eyes were peeled open like ice. Before I knew it, I was watching Kriss walk out of the room, crying. I snapped my eyes back to Maxon. He was still holding the little box. The glass shards started to realign themselves. The orchestra was subdued.

"I'm sorry I had to do it that way." He apologized. "But I had to let her go if I wanted to truly propose to you." He dropped down to one knee, opening the box on the way. "The future is scary to think about. There's no certainty in it, nothing is concrete. Who knows where we'll be in these next several months? We could be welcoming our first child for all we know and if not, I hope to eventually. What I do know for sure is that I love you. And I always will. We've been through a lot together and that's only opened my eyes to how endless my love is for you. I know you have your doubts about this life but I will protect you, support you, and believe in you even at times when you don't believe in yourself. America Singer, will you please end this competition and marry me?" His eyes started watering. "Please?"

I took a deep breath. "Like you really had to ask." I whispered. He smiled triumphantly, the brightest, happiest smile I'd ever seen him wear. I grabbed his hands and pulled him up, hugging him in the same motion. He buried his face in my neck and I could feel a moistness by his eyes. "I love you." I whispered in his ear.

He nodded and kissed my neck lightly. We had forgotten we were on TV. "You probably thought I was choosing Kriss. I'm surprised you didn't just walk out." He whispered back.

"I didn't know what to think. Even if I had, I know you would've run after me." I smiled.

Someone cleared their throat behind us. We pulled away from each other and looked over at the king and queen. Queen Amberly was smiling fondly while King Clarkson wore a more diplomatic smile. I hugged Queen Amberly and shook the king's hand politely. Gavril entered and I was aware of the cameras turning off. Usually when Gavril enters the cameras start rolling.

"Congratulations Prince Maxon and Lady America…or should I say, Princess America?" He smiled at us both as he shook Maxon's hand.

Maxon looped his arm around my waist and kissed my temple. "I'm happy." he said to Gavril.

"I'm happy for you both." Gavril said warmly. "Now, I think we can postpone the interview for tomorrow night and that's when we'll roll the footage from tonight. You all deserve the night to celebrate amongst yourselves."

* * *

A couple hours later, Maxon and I were walking to his room when we stopped outside the princess suite. "Your maids were busy while we were downstairs celebrating. All of your things have been moved in and the suit is open to you." He pushed open the door and my breath caught. Since the last time I had been in there the walls had been painted a light blue and the bed was completely adorned in silks of varying blues. A white piano sat in the corner with a few other instruments and all of my pictures were at the mirror on my vanity.

"Maxon." I whispered, pulling him in the room further. "This is perfect. You did this all in the last couple hours?"

He laughed. "Oh no! It was painted this morning so I don't think it would be wise for you to sleep in here tonight…the fumes, you know." He had been smiling for hours but this smile was a new one. "I brought you here for a reason though."

"Congratulations!" someone squealed behind me. I turned and saw Marlee running out of the secret passage. She barreled into me and we both hugged and cried and squealed together. Maxon walked into his room, giving us privacy.

We both collapsed on our bed as Marlee beamed. "I knew you'd win! I knew from the very beginning!" She couldn't seem to catch her breath.

"Marlee, can I swear you to secrecy on something?" She nodded so I told her everything that had transpired between Maxon and I in the last twenty-four hours. When I was done she smiled.

Sighing, she said, "I hope you're really pregnant America."

"Why?" I asked, not understanding why she'd be so hopeful about it.

She smiled even wider. "Because I'm pregnant." She announced. This sent us into a whole new episode of squeals and celebrating and by the time we were done talking it was late at night. "I should get back to Carter. He'll probably be worried."

I hugged her and held her tight. "I'm so happy for you. For both of us really, but mostly you." We said our goodbyes and as soon as the secret passage door was shut I wandered over to Maxon's room and found him lying in his bed reading. He had changed into his pajamas at some point – they were _flannel._

"Prince Maxon Shreave," I called to him, running and collapsing on his bed next to him, "are you wearing flannel pajamas?"

He smiled and set his book aside. He pulled me close, bringing my lips close to his. I guess he just didn't want to answer me because he immediately rolled over so he was on top of me. "Do you have a problem with flannel?" He growled, looking at me with a serious face.

"No, I just wanted to know where I could get some flannel." I playfully shoved him away from me. He laughed and sat across from me, close enough that he could play with the sequins on my dress. "Thank you for setting that up with Marlee."

"Well everyone else is a little preoccupied." He explained. "And she told me the news a couple days ago and at that point I had a pretty good idea of who I wanted to marry so I decided to wait."

I sunk down so I was in a lying position, with my hand underneath my head. "It would be amazing if our kids are the same age. I know that she technically shouldn't be here but they could be best friends."

He watched me and smiled, looking completely content. "I could get used to this." He sighed, grabbing the skirt of my dress and pulling it around his face like a veil. I grabbed a pillow and playfully swatted him with it. "Hey, hey, hey! No abusing the prince!" He threw up his hands dramatically to protect his face.

"I wasn't abusing the prince, I was abusing my fiancé." I clarified, flicking his nose. "Now, darling, could you help me out of my dress?"

He raised his eyebrows and sat up quickly. "Oh yeah, I could definitely get used to this."

**So I decided to keep going. I figured, I already have a few chapters from here on out written and I can't let them go to waste. (You're welcome.) Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

_You can tell how smart people are by what they laugh at. – Tina Fey_

"Tiffany blue, cream, and yellow." I mused, chewing absently on the cap of my pen. I gazed up at the puffy clouds floating by and nodded. "Yes, those are perfect."

Maxon gaped at me from across the table. "What kind of blue?"

"Tiffany blue." I repeated. Then I frowned at him. "You really don't know what Tiffany blue is? Tiffany & Co.? No? C'mon Maxon, they are the best jewelers ever!" I exclaimed.

He shook his head and returned his attention to the folder in front of him. "We have our own personal jewelers here at the palace. I don't see any reason for me knowing who Tiffany is."

I stared at him with impatience. "Personal jewelers?" I clarified. "That doesn't surprise me at all."

"I don't really see the importance of picking out a color scheme for our wedding. You just make sure nothing clashes and you're away. Then we don't need to worry about this Tiffany green business."

"Tiffany blue." I mumbled, sighing. "And Maxon? I'm an artist, remember? Colors are extremely important to me and why are you worried anyway? All you have to do is wear the right suit and be at the Main Hall on time."

He grimaced. "Well I'd like to be involved and help you in whatever way I can. It's _our _wedding."

"You can help me by finishing the guest list. You know all of the people we need to invite." I told him, handing him the incomplete list of guests.

He nodded but still looked disappointed. "Right, okay." He took the list and set it down in a separate folder.

I checked my watch. I had learned quickly that wearing a watch was crucial for my life now because it was easier to keep track of what I was doing during the day. "I have to go have a meeting with your mom. You okay staying out here?" I asked him.

He rolled his eyes, kissing me on the cheek lightly. "I'll see you tonight."

"You're not going to be at dinner?"

"No. Father and I have to make a quick field trip. I probably won't be home until late tonight so please don't worry about staying up for me." He explained, pleading me to listen to him with his eyes.

I laughed. "Well how can I say no to a face like yours?" I teased, running my hand across his shoulders as I walked by.

When I made it to Amberly's office I collapsed in one of the chairs across from her desk, slouching in a very un-princess like fashion but there wasn't anyone important in the office so I figured it was okay. "Do you think I'm letting Maxon do enough for the wedding?"

She looked up at me with the same expression Maxon had when I tried to explain Tiffany blue. "Why are you worried about involving him at all? Clarkson didn't offer any help with our wedding."

I nodded. "I know. But Maxon is so different from his father. He seems genuinely insulted that I am only letting him help with the guest list. But then I tried to explain the importance of a color scheme and he didn't get it! Men are so handicapped when it comes to color schemes and flower coordination and seasonal fashions and chair coverings and dining sets and menus…"

"America, honey, breathe." Amberly ordered, holding up a hand to stop me. "If Maxon wants to help, let him help! But what he has to understand is that you're not going to give him a lot because he already has so much on his plate."

"That's not my reason for partially excluding him though."

She smiled. "But that's what you can tell him. It will soften the blow."

I nodded, knowing she was right. "He's just so busy with the whole transition thing going on between being a prince and a king and everything his father is giving him to do to prepare. I really don't want to add any burden to that."

"Not to mention his birthday is approaching." Amberly said, looking back down at her papers.

I sat up straight suddenly. "What? When is his birthday?"

"The fourteenth?" She raised her eyebrows, running a pen down the calendar on her desk. "Two Saturdays from now." She tapped her pen on the date and looked up at me. "Oh no."

"How did we plan the wedding for his birthday?" I demanded, looking at the calendar too. "This is his twentieth birthday! We have to do something!"

She laughed. "My dear, I think a wedding will do just fine. Trust me, I can't think of anything that would make him happier than marrying you on his birthday." She smiled knowingly. "Now, do you have those reports I gave to you a couple days ago to finish?"

I nodded and handed over the folder. "They were a lot easier to finish this time."

"Glad to hear it." She beamed. "You are very busy so you should probably go get to work on the rest of your planning. I'm sure it will be wonderful though, after what you did for my anniversary gala."

I smiled and walked out. Later that night, I was sitting in bed flipping through a bridal magazine I had asked to be delivered to the palace. The door to Maxon's room was cracked open so that I knew when he got back. When I heard him moving around his room I knew he must have been home. I set down the magazine and walked into his room. I heard the water running in the bathroom so I decided to curl up on his bed.

After about ten minutes, he came out with a towel around his waist and nothing else. "Sorry." I said, quickly sitting up. "I should've warned you I was in here."

He waved a hand at me. "It's fine." He said, walking to his closet. He pulled on his pajama pants and a t-shirt and came to sit by me. "I told you not to wait up for me."

"I have to apologize to you." I explained to him. "This is our wedding and I should be letting you help me with it. I just know how busy you've been and I don't want to add any extra work to that. I really shouldn't underestimate you like that." I hugged a pillow to my chest.

He smiled sadly. "It's not that I want to help you plan it. Quite frankly, I don't care if our colors are black or Tiffany red or what…I just want to know what's going on."

I frowned. "You want the truth? I really don't care either. I just want to be married to you. I feel like the wedding is going to be amazing even if I try to screw it up because it's the royal wedding; everything has to be perfect. I still haven't gotten a dress though and really I don't care if it's a potato sack because I know that even in that you'll still think I'm beautiful. I'm allergic to most flowers so I'm going to be a stuffy mess with snot running down my face the entire time but the photographer is going to touch up all of the pictures to make me look like a doll." I looked at him and saw that he was laughing quietly but hysterically.

"You see now big much royal protocol is a pain in the ass?" he asked quietly, holding one of her hands tight.

She nodded and laughed too. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

He snorted. "Like you really need to ask."

**Sorry it took a while to update! Please review guys!**


	14. Chapter 14

_So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever. You and me, every day. – The Notebook_

Everything was ready. My family had arrived at the palace, Kenna, May, and Mother surrounding me as they got me dressed and my hair and make-up were done. Amberly was there too, along with Marlee and my maids. They all were beaming and I could tell that Mom was having a hard time keeping the tears out of her eyes.

I had my dress on and it fit me perfectly. I wore pearls instead of the typical jewels that I'd been wearing for formal occasions. My gown was the traditional princess ball gown: it had a wide skirt with white tool roses scattered all over it. There was a large rose at my hip and other smaller ones heading up the one-shoulder strap.

The veil was designed to look similar to the skirt. Queen Amberly slid on a pearl tiara to go over the top of the veil and I touched it lightly, looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror. So this is what Maxon saw every time he looked at me; for the first time I could remember I felt truly beautiful. Amberly rubbed my shoulders and smiled from behind me. "That is the tiara I wore for my coronation as a princess. Take good care of it." She adjusted a pin in my hair as I nodded. Then she whispered in my ear, "Don't be nervous. You know he loves you to death."

I laughed lightly and blushed. "Is it time yet?" I asked her, turning away from the mirror.

"Lucy just went to get your father." Queen Amberly said as she turned to my family. "We should probably head down now. Kenna, May, come with me so we can let America and her father walk by themselves."

Mom beamed at me one last time before leaving with my sisters and the queen. Marlee, who was just barely showing in her uniform, came and adjusted my skirt. "You look incredible America."

"You should be one of my bridesmaids you know." I told her.

She shook her head and smiled. "Everything happens for a reason America. I am so happy with my life right now. I wouldn't change what happened to me because it allowed me to really be with Carter. I want you to be able to accept my fate too."

I was about to answer when my dad walked in. We chatted as we walked down the hallway from the Princess Suite to the Main Hall where the ceremony would be taking place. He held my hand and kept talking, trying to calm his own nerves. When we were outside the large doors leading to the Main Hall he reached up and pulled the front of my veil down to cover my face. "I love you kiddo."

"Love you too Dad." I whispered back to him as the music from the orchestra started. My mother and Queen Amberly walked down the hallway together, both looking equally regal in their dresses. I tried to peek my head through to get a glimpse of Maxon but he wasn't up there yet. Then Kenna walked down the aisle, escorted by Kota. May and Gerad walked down the aisle together and they both looked so gosh-darn cute in their mini royal attire.

Then it was our turn. This wall all going too fast. All of this planning and the seconds were flying by. I tried to remember every step I took down the long aisle amongst people that I had never met before but I could hardly stop myself from running toward Maxon. As I reached the halfway point of the aisle, he stepped out of a side door and claimed his spot at the front of the hall. He was wearing his official guard uniform with a sword hanging at his hip and countless badges gleaming on his chest. He smiled and winked at me.

The ceremony itself actually dragged on. There was so much to do on our part with the incorporation of royal protocol that by the time we got to the official vows and exchange of rings, we had been there for over an hour. He slid the silver wedding band on to my finger and I did the same to him, trying to keep from crying.

We were pronounced husband and wife and ushered over to the family tidings book where we had to sign our names next to each other on the large family tree. The reception itself was just a precursor for the night ahead for me. I was so giddy with excitement that it took every last ounce of patience to not kick everyone out of the palace at nine o'clock.

It was after midnight when we finally got to Maxon's suite. He pushed the door open and swooped me up into his arms and carried me to the bed. "Wait." I said as he laid me down on the bed. "I have a present for you." I shuffled from underneath him and bounced over to my room. There was a small cake waiting inside with green icing and candles in the shape of a 2 and a 0 on it. I lit them with the matches next to it and walked into Maxon's room carefully balancing the cake. "Da-da-da-da!" I sang, walking up to him.

He looked up at me in surprise. "How'd you know?" he asked.

"Your mother let it slip out. Why weren't you going to tell me?"

"I didn't want to make a big deal out of it." He shrugged, his eyes shifting to look at the cake. "But this is perfect."

I smiled. "C'mon, blow out your candles; the wax is starting to drip."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then he opened them and blow out the candles. I set the cake down and cut it. It was small enough that we each could take a half. I handed him his piece and took mine, sitting down behind him. I propped my chin on his shoulder as we ate. Halfway through his piece, he set it down. Then he took mine and put it next to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Well, I figure ten minutes is enough time for celebrating my birthday. Now I want to celebrate my wedding." He smiled wickedly.

I peered at him. "Always deflecting from yourself."

"A prince has no place for selfishness in his life." He mumbled into my neck. "A husband, though…" I rolled my eyes and conceded. I wouldn't have won the argument anyway; his hands had found the zipper to my dress.

**Another short one, I know. These chapters I don't have written so updates may be a bit slower. Oh, and as an FYI, tomorrow I'm leaving to go to the beach until Thursday and on Saturday I'm going to Puerto Rico for a mission trip for a week so I won't be updating for a while. But I promise, I'll leave you with a good cliff hanger. =D**


	15. Chapter 15

_You have bewitched me, body and soul. – Mr. Darcy, Pride & Prejudice_

The two weeks following our wedding flew by blissfully. Maxon made a greater effort to spend time with me – or he just couldn't stand to be away from me. Queen Amberly let me shadow her for a few meetings and I even got to attend a finance meeting. It was strange, being part of the Schreave family and experiencing their day-to-day lives with them. All I needed to do was get through my coronation and the craziness would die down enough for me to start enjoying my life wholly.

On our three-week anniversary, Maxon and I sat on the edge of the bed, sitting side-by-side. "You know, whatever happens, I'm happy." he whispered.

I nodded and kept my hands folded in my lap. There were a couple inches of space between us and it felt like the first time we hadn't been touching in weeks. We were both staring at the clock hanging on the wall across the room from us, counting the seconds. I could swear the second hand was slowing down though.

"I'll take care of you. And we can postpone the coronation for, you know…after. Or we could do it in a couple weeks. It's up to you." He kept talking and just in his mumbling I could hear how nervous he was. I wanted to comfort him but I felt like if I moved at all I would fall apart.

"Just, stop talking." I mumbled. We had decided to take the test because I had been sick the past few days. I was only able to leave our room for a few hours each day and I could already tell that I was losing pounds that I couldn't afford to lose just from not being able to eat normally. I knew that made Maxon even more worried.

Two minutes had gone by.

Two minutes, thirty seconds.

Two minutes, fifty seconds.

Maxon started to get up and looked at me expectantly. He held out a hand but I shook my head, refusing him for the first time ever.

Three minutes.

He raised his eyebrows. I took a few deep breaths and then took his hand. "Whatever happens?"

Smiling, he nodded and said, "I'm here. Forever."

That was all I needed. Suddenly, I couldn't get to the bathroom quick enough. I pulled on his hand and we practically ran in, nearly slipping on the polished marble floors as we both stood in front of the sink. "Wow." I breathed, looking down at the pregnancy tests.

He nodded. "I'm at a loss." He admitted.

Shaking my head I looked at him. "What now?"

"I don't know."

"We're going to be parents."

"Yeah." He breathed out, not looking at me. I walked past him and went back into our bedroom, placing a hand over my stomach. I knew nothing about being a mother. I was sixteen-years-old. Maxon was twenty. We weren't even king and queen yet. I wasn't even officially a princess yet.

He came and sat next to me and put an arm around my shoulders. "I guess the honeymoon is over." He sighed.

I looked at him sadly. "Sorry." I quickly apologized.

He laughed. "_You_ would act like this is something to be sorry about."

Laughing with him, I nodded. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well," he sighed, "my father can't know for a couple weeks. That will raise suspicion that we know so fast. We can tell my mother, we just need to find time that they're not together."

He was excited, I could tell. But there was something else in his voice that made him sound freaked out. I considered why he could be upset and then it dawned on me. "Maxon, you're going to be a good father."

He shook his head. "I'm not so sure. I'd be an excellent case study for nature vs. nurture."

"You're not a case study." I told him. "If you were anything like your father, I probably wouldn't be married to you. You'd be married to Elise, or Natalie, or even better…Celeste."

He laughed. "You know what's crazy? I've forgotten all about them. Since marrying you, I've forgotten all about the other girls. It's like the Selection never happened and it was just an epic love story between you and me."

"It was certainly epic." I agreed. "Boy or girl?" I suddenly asked him, not being able to contain it any longer.

"Huh?" He frowned.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?"

He thought for a few seconds and then said, "Girl. You?"

"Boy."

"Well I guess we're gonna have to wait another eight months to know. I want to be surprised."

I nodded. "That's a long time."

"It's worth it."

**Wow. That's a really short chapter but that's what I'm leaving you guys with for a couple days. I may update a couple times on Friday but I have to pack then and it depends if I get any writing done at the beach. Please review and let me know what you think!**


	16. Chapter 16

_You're a human being, you live once and life is wonderful so eat the damn red velvet cupcake. – Emma Stone_

* * *

Maxon led me into the Dining Hall, holding my hand a little too tightly. We had both agreed that we could finally announce the news to his father and the rest of the general public. It had been about three weeks – the announcement had to be postponed because King Clarkson made an impromptu trip to Swendway for five days – and I was suffering from a great deal of morning sickness. Luckily, since King Clarkson had been away he hadn't been there to witness a majority of it.

When we entered, Maxon went to kiss his mother on the cheek and took his place across from King Clarkson. I sat across from Queen Amberly who smiled at me with genuine care in her eyes. "Father, I…_we _have exciting news for you." Maxon said, never one for waiting.

The king didn't even look up from his newspaper. "And what is that? There's a new hair gel available?" he asked sarcastically.

I could feel Maxon take a deep, soothing breath next to me. "No. America and I will be having a baby." There was a note of pride in his voice but he kept his tone even.

King Clarkson looked up at me for a few seconds and then looked at Maxon before returning his attention to his newspaper. The servers put our breakfasts down on the table. Queen Amberly looked like she was holding her breath, waiting for his answer. "Well that certainly didn't take long." He said evenly.

Maxon's forehead creased in confusion. "What? No 'congratulations,' or 'well done?'"

The king looked over at his son. "Congratulations." His voice was flat.

"Clarkson, this is very exciting. We're going to have a grandchild." Queen Amberly said to him. "I think you can at least try to sound excited."

"I'm extremely busy with work right now. It is very exciting, yes, but I don't have the time to celebrate." said the king.

Maxon's fist came down on the table with a loud _thud_, drawing King Clarkson's attention to us. "You'd think a man who only had one child himself would be happy for his son when he announces he's going to be a father," he said angrily.

Laughing, the king set down his newspaper. "Don't start this now." He was smiling but his voice held no humor in it. He stood and folded up his newspaper. "I think I'll go eat dinner somewhere more peaceful," he sneered.

Queen Amberly looked down at her plate sadly. Then she focused on Maxon and I. "I'm sorry about _him."_

I shook my head. "It's fine." I nodded, mustering a smile. I rubbed the back of Maxon's hand. "He'll come around."

* * *

_Seven Months Later_

Pain.

That was all my mind could process. That, and the feel of Maxon's hand gripped in my own. He wiped my hair off of my forehead periodically and got ice for me when I needed it. I had been in labor for what felt like days but I knew it had only been about eight hours. The doctors said that it was normal to have a long labor process for the first child.

Another contraction ended and I leaned back into Maxon's arms. There were maids and nurses bustling around the hospital, getting everything ready for the birth. "I'm ready for this to be over." I told him.

He chuckled. "I think my hand is too."

I winced. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He shook his head but he still switched his hands so he could stretch out the other. I kissed me lightly. "You've been doing amazing."

"Please stop telling me that. I haven't been doing anything. That's why this sucks; I _can't _do anything right now but roll around in pain."

He laughed again. "Well, then you've been doing amazing at making it look painless."

I rolled my eyes and waited for another contraction. Three hours later the doctors said that I could finally start pushing. Within the next hour, our baby was born. The doctors liked to keep the sex of the baby a secret until it was completely clean. Maxon got to cut the umbilical cord so he naturally knew what the baby was seconds after it was born.

He smiled nonetheless. "Our baby is beautiful, just like you." He said to me, squeezing my shoulders. "You want to know if we have a son or a daughter?"

I nodded, excited. He went to retrieve our baby and placed it in my arms. I looked down and smiled.

**Hahahahah….cliff hanger! You're going to have to wait ten days to know if it's a prince or a princess! I'm so evil. I didn't have much time, that's why it's so short but I have the most of the next chapters done. Please review!**


	17. Chapter 17

_Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary. – Oscar Wilde_

"Elizabeth Rose Schreave," I mused, cradling the bundle that was our daughter in my arms. "She is beautiful."

Maxon smiled and allowed her to curl her fist around one of his fingers. "Are you disappointed that its not a boy?" He asked, knowing how much I was hoping for a son. He had wanted a girl, surprisingly enough. Of course he had his way.

"How could I be disappointed? Besides, I can't change it now." I laughed and stifled a yawn. Maxon, being my husband, could tell that I was tired though and didn't miss my strain to keep from yawning.

"I'll take her, you sleep." He offered, rising slightly.

I shook my head though, not taking my eyes off of her. He didn't either. "I'll keep Libby, you go tell your mom that she can come meet her."

"Libby?" He repeated.

"Just a nickname." I assured him, patting his knee. "What time is it anyway?"

He laughed and showed me his watch as be stood up. "A little after ten."

I rolled my eyes and groaned as Maxon brought in his mother. She claimed his spot next to me and looked down at Libby.

"Well you two, you did well." She laughed and rubbed a hand on Maxon's arm. "She is quite something."

He sighed. "She certainly is." I took my eyes off of her for the first time and looked at Maxon and was taken aback when I noticed the tears gathering in his eyes. "Max..." I sighed as he laughed in spite of himself.

He pressed a couple fingers to his eyes as his mother left to talk to one of the doctors. Sitting down next to me, he rested his chin on my shoulder. "I'm just so happy." He explained, a couple tears escaping him.

"My, oh my, I believe this is the first time I've ever seen you cry."

"Yes, well, if we keep having children it won't be the last."

I smiled and stroked his face. "I think we can agree that we should wait until we are comfortably on our feet with Libby before we have any more kids. We're still young." I added.

He chuckled. "Yes, we are definitely young."

As the maids trickled out of the hospital and it was just a few nurses left, Maxon and I found little else we needed to say to each other. I eventually started to doze off and was only faintly aware of him taking her from my arms.

Libby was three weeks old and her health was soaring. I had spent very little time working in the last couple months and I stressed over the work I'd have to catch up on but Amberly assured me that she had taken care of it. Maxon was bogged-down with work he had neglected toward the end of my pregnancy and was now regretting his neglect because it meant less time with Libby and I.

* * *

On Libby's one month birthday, Maxon joined me in the nursery for her bedtime feeding. This had become a ritual of sorts: we would dine together for breakfast and dinner and we would spend time together during her morning and bedtime feeding before going to bed.

He took Libby from my arms to burp her as I rocked in the rocking chair at ease. "You know what today is?" He asked me in a hushed, conversational voice.

"No, should I?" I frowned, watching him.

"Today marks a year of me knowing you."

My frown grew. "There's no way."

He nodded. "Think, Libby was born one month ago, eight months after we got married. She was conceived three weeks before we were married, which was a little over two months after we'd met." He paused. "It's easy to lose track of time now that we're parents."

I nodded in agreement. "I feel like I've known you my whole life."

"You're just in a new chapter of your life." He explained. "She's asleep." He whispered.

I stood up and cradled her for a couple minutes with Maxons arm around my waist. "There will come a time, when I will be forced to put country before family." He whispered to me. "When that time comes, I want you to remember moments like this and how much I love you both. I will have to put country before you both because of my love for you. I'll do anything to keep you both safe."

My heart sank a bit at his words, even though I couldn't deny it because I knew the truth of his words in my heart. I set Libby down in her cradle, adjusting her blankets before turning away and walking into our bedroom. "I understand." I tried to keep my voice light but I knew I wasn't successful. "Why are you saying that?"

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes. "My father told me today that he's going to announce his retirement next week."

"Next week?" I repeated from my closet. I slid on my pajama pants and tshirt and walked back to the bed and sat behind Maxon. I started to massage his shoulders as he slid off his belt and took off his tie. He leaned his head back and sighed. "That's why you've been so busy lately?" I asked, doing the math in my head.

He nodded. "He wants the best for his country and I guess that means trying to keep me from you two. It's a shame that he doesn't realize just how much in love I am with you both." He paused. "The truth is I'm not ready to rule. I'm twenty years old. In the Old Law I couldn't even drink alcohol yet."

I smiled and kissed the top of his head. "I'm a big girl Maxon. Should you ever have to choose between country and family, I understand your decision and trust your judgment and most of all, can stand on my own two feet to take care of our daughter."

"I never doubted it." Maxon cried.

I laughed lightly. "Dearest, I never said you did. I was merely assuring you that we'd be okay on our own."

"We'll that's a bloody miracle because if I ever lose you I do not know how I'd be able to live." He said gravely.

I didn't want to tell him the truth that I wouldn't be able to live without him either but I did feel a little guilty for misleading him. Not only that but just for the fact that it made me sound like I didn't have the same amount of love for him as he had for me.

He stood up and went to change as I let the maids come in and turn down the bed for us. It was one of those things that they'd been trained to do and Maxon and I didn't want to take it from them since we already got ourselves ready for bed. Maxon didn't even have a valet; a rarity among royalty.

As I laid down in bed, curled up next to him with my feet pressed snugly between his legs he pulled out a folder and started doing extra work. "What are you working on tonight?" I asked, rubbing a hand in the crook of his elbow.

He shrugged. "Rebel stuff. Do you recognize any of these people?" He passed me a sleeve of pictures of people that looked entirely too clean and put together to be rebels. "These are pictures of the rebels that had you on the train before they became rebels. The last records we have of them."

I shook my head. "That night is such a blur that I've blocked out of my memory. Aside from the occasional nightmare, you know I don't talk about it. But...if I could see them in person again I could maybe identify them."

He frowned and looked over at me. "You want to see them?" He questioned.

I shrugged. "It could help me come to terms with what happened. It's not like I'd be unsafe; there'd be plenty of guards around to protect me."

"Yes but these are still ruthless people who tried to kill you. That doesn't make the least bit wary?"

"Maxon I can't live my life in fear of what happened. I have to face it sometime and the way I see it, I've never been stronger or more confident."

He sighed and ran a hand down his face, the seconds dragging on as he considered. "Fine, I can set something up in a few days."

**I'M BAAAAAACK! As promised, you have a new chapter, written starting at the beach in San Juan and ending on a plane at three am flying from San Juan. So, in other words, you're welcome. **

**To address some comments really quick – because if I can't update on my phone I may as well read your comments – some of you said you wanted to read a bit more about the pregnancy but I'm writing this Fanfic with the intention of putting out a sister Fanfic that is all one-shots from Maxon's POV with mostly material from this book, just to give y'all a taste of behind-the-scenes drama.**

**Thanks for staying faithful and please, please, PLEASE review!**


	18. Chapter 18

_Potentially lovely, perpetually human. – Regina Spektor_

* * *

I stared at the grimy man sitting across from me. He had piercing green eyes and scruffy facial hair. His cheeks were shallow and there were wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. He had to be in his forties, with gray hair starting to bloom at his temples to mix with the black hair covering the rest of his head.

"You were on the train, the night you all tried to kill me." I stated. There was no doubt about it. Though I didn't get a good look at his face, I could tell those fingers were his from two miles away. I had nightmares about those fingers regularly, where they creeped along my skin, touching places that only Maxon had the permission to touch. This was the same man who tried to rape me.

He smiled wickedly. "It's a shame I couldn't finish what I started with you." He growled, looking at me seductively.

I took a deep breath, swallowing my fear, and raised my chin at him. "Who is orchestrating all of this? Who is your leader?"

He laughed and shook his head. "You're wasting your time with me."

"How so?" I asked. I could tell the guards standing around the room were starting to get uneasy. "You're one of them, you should know."

"That's where you're wrong." He leaned forward and folded his hands in front of him on the table. "I'm not a rebel, not really. That stunt with the train…we were hired two hours before we left to get you. I was only a rebel for that twelve, thirteen hour period."

I frowned. "Who hired you?"

"If you think the leader of the rebels would be dumb enough to show his face around us, you are in way over your head. There's too great of a risk for us all to get caught by all of you that there is no way the leader would show his face."

"It's a guy?" I asked.

He leaned back. "I never said that. I just get the feeling it's a guy leading the rebels. I have no idea."

I nodded to the guards after holding the man's gaze for several long moments. "Take him back to his cell; he doesn't know anything. Bring in the girl." I instructed the guard closest to me. They followed my instructions and I waited for about two minutes before they brought in the rebel girl. I could practically feel Maxon's eyes boring holes into me from the other side of the one-way glass.

She was actually pretty. She had to be in her twenties. She had a youthful look about her. Her hair was blonde, very similar to Maxon's hair actually. It fell in waves around her shoulders, framing her round face. Her eyes were a strange combination of brown and hazel. "So we meet again." She purred to me.

I sighed. "I'm not in the mood for your games."

"Then this is the perfect time to play."

I narrowed my eyes. "What's your connection to the rebels?" I asked her.

She picked at her fingernails and sucked her teeth. "You know, I've had a lot of time to think over these last…how long has it been, ten months or so? Well, I've decided that I want to be a princess."

I laughed. "Well that's a shame because I'm the princess and you're a rebel."

She smirked. "You have no idea." She paused. "The crown belongs to me more than it ever belonged to you. You may be married to the prince but you don't have royal blood in you. I do."

"Excuse me?" I sat up straighter and I knew that Maxon was resisting the urge to break through the glass and demand answers.

"Next time you see King Clarkson, ask him if he remembers a maid name Julia and if he remembers how he threw her out into the cold when he found out that she was pregnant with his child."

I shook my head. "There's no way. You're lying." I tried to deny it but my voice still shook with uncertainty. "King Clarkson wouldn't…"

"He wouldn't what? Be so heartless? C'mon, I know what you must think about him, knowing how he's abused Prince Maxon all of these years. I think we both have a pretty good idea of what he's capable of. You haven't even let him meet his granddaughter yet because you hate him so much and you don't trust him. He's a tyrant, we both know that. He's no better than Gregory Illéa."

I stood up abruptly, my fists clenching. "You know nothing about that."

She sat back, crossing her arms – the picture of ease. "You think we don't have this place completely wired? You're really naïve enough to believe that we don't know all of your little secrets? We're always a step ahead, thanks to the spies we have here in the palace."

"Funny though, we haven't had any attacks since we've had you in custody."

She laughed again. "What a coincidence."

I paused. "You're their leader, aren't you?"

"Bingo." She sang. "Well, I'm one of the leaders. We're not dumb enough to only have one person in charge."

"So what's the deal with that other guy?"

She snorted. "John? He's a puppet. He was desperate to save one of his kids from an illness and we had what he needed to get it. Don't worry, we helped the kid. But we knew he would do anything we asked him to if we had the right leverage."

I shook my head. "I hope you weren't hoping we'd kill you because I still have a lot left to get out of you." I said, gathering my folders from the table and getting ready to leave.

"Don't worry Princess America," she said in a condescending tone, "I'm just biding my time."

I rolled my eyes and walked out the door, just to bump into Maxon. "C'mon, we need to go talk somewhere private." I tugged on his hand and we practically ran to his study, the one place we were guaranteed no interruptions.

He sat in his big leather chair, staring at an hourglass he was playing with. I leaned against his desk beside his chair, one of my hands clasped over his. I played with his wedding band, sliding it around his finger as we sat in silence. "You know what's crazy?" He was talking in a quiet voice. "I've always hoped for a sister. I guess I should've been more careful with what I was wishing for."

I shook my head. "Maxon, that girl is not your sister."

"America, we have the same father. Without him, neither of us would be here." He buried his face in his hands, taking deep breaths.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and said, "There's no proof. She could be lying. She probably is, just to get us to be distracted by this so the rebels can attack."

His head snapped up and he looked at me with wide eyes. "Where's Libby?" he demanded.

"In the nursery. Your mom is watching her." I told him calmly, running after him as he dashed out of his study. "Maxon, wait, slow down!" I called after him, actually having to sprint to keep up with him. What was he thinking? Royalty is never supposed to run and that was a rule I was expecting to break more than him.

When we got to the nursery he startled his mother by barging in and scooping Libby into his arms within seconds. "Excuse my husband, who I'm starting to believe should visit a mental ward." I said scathingly to her.

He shook his head and glared at me from over Libby's head. "How would you feel if someone said they're your half-sister?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, I already have two sisters so I wouldn't be too surprised."

"What is this about a half-sister?" Amberly asked, standing and crossing her arms. She looked at Maxon with a challenging expression on his face and Maxon immediately calmed, becoming solemn.

He looked down at Libby and then at me before meeting his mother's eyes again. "The rebel girl we caught from the train, the one that tried to kill America, we just interrogated her. She said that Father had a relationship with a maid named Julia a while back and then this Julia girl got pregnant and Father threw her out of the palace…Mom?" he asked as the queen sat down with a hand pressed over her mouth.

"Julia." She whispered. "She was my personal maid and I caught her one night, kissing your father. I never told him that I saw them…I wanted to act like it wasn't real." My heart broke for Amberly. I looked over at Maxon and met his gaze, acknowledging his thoughts just in one look. We both knew that this made it more likely that this girl was telling the truth. Amberly sighed and kept talking, "Clarkson came to me one night, begging me to fire her and when I couldn't he did for me. I didn't understand…he wouldn't tell me exactly what was going on. I was suspicious but never thought that it could be because she was pregnant."

Maxon kept his eyes on me as he said, "Father is the only one who can confirm it."

But we wouldn't get a chance to talk to Clarkson, because at that moment the rebel alarm went off.

**Lots of secrets coming out now. Sorry, I just can't help making the king a big jerk. Haha, please review.**


	19. Chapter 19

_Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long. No matter what I say or do, I still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone. – Sara Bareilles_

* * *

We had been in the safe room for two hours and you could practically cut the tension with a butter knife. I almost wished that Libby would have a crying fit just so Maxon and I would have something to do besides watching her sleep in my arms. King Clarkson, totally unaware of what we had discovered, sat doing work at a table, shooting Maxon evil looks because Maxon was putting his work off.

Finally, Queen Amberly cleared her throat. "You know, Clarkson, I was going over some archived lists of palace help this morning and came across my former personal maid, Julia. There wasn't a reason for her lay-off so I was wondering if you could help refresh my memory."

He looked at her, his eyes piercing into her. Then he looked back to his work. "I thought you said that she was unsuitable for the job. She wasn't taking care of you properly or something along those lines."

She nodded. "I liked Julia. If memory serves me correctly, _you_ were the one insisting we get rid of her." She fixed an icy glare of him, refusing to look away despite his open display of disrespect for her.

"I thought we both agreed that she was just not good enough. Especially with you being pregnant with Arthur at the time, we both felt that she wasn't making the pregnancy any easier for you."

"Are you sure that it isn't because Julie was pregnant?" Amberly suddenly asked, barely waiting for him to finish his sentence.

He snapped his head up to look at her. Maxon, slowly and inconspicuously, positioned himself in a protective stance by his mother. Clarkson laughed. "Who told you that?"

"The young rebel girl we brought in several months ago. She said that her mother's name is Julia, a maid thrown out of the palace by King Clarkson because she was pregnant with his child." She paused and I could hear the sadness in her voice. "Tell me that's not true. Look me in the eye and tell me that you've been completely faithful to me and our marriage and that this girl is just crazy."

"Amberly." Clarkson sighed, looking at her with hard eyes.

"Tell me Clarkson!" she demanded, rising from her chair. His hesitation was all the answer she needed; she just wanted to hear him say it out loud. "After all I've been through…you had to do something like this."

He sighed and looked away, gathering his thoughts. "Twins. She was pregnant with two girls." He finally admitted.

There was a loud bang at the door. We all turned and looked at it. Maxon back up to stand by my side, sliding a hand up my back. The guards inside pointed their guns at the entryway. Then the vaulted door slid open slowly. "Stand down, it's Officer Leger." Aspen's voice echoed through the room.

Of course it was Aspen, because this moment couldn't be any more awkward. He poked his head around and stepped through. "Sorry about the noise, we just threw a small grenade down here to make sure it was clear before coming to retrieve all of you. It is now safe to leave and go back to your duties."

I let out my breath and smiled at Aspen. Maxon gently pushed me toward the door. "Maxon, wait, we need to make sure that girl is still here." I reminded him. I passed Libby off to a nearby maid and we both ran down to the holding cells in the basement of the palace. It was cold and damp and musty down there. We dashed down the long row of cells, passing criminals that yelled out vulgar things to me as I passed.

We got down to the last one, the one the girl was occupying, the one that now stood empty. Maxon looked ready to punch the wall behind us. "Damn it!"

* * *

People were flying in and out of Maxon's study as we commanded orders. "We need to find them!" he exclaimed, slamming a fist down on the large map of Illéa spread out in front of him. There was an officer standing in front of him, looking slightly frightened. "Bring out the spec-ops teams and divide them up. They'll sweep the entire area. We have to move fast."

It had only been an hour since we'd left the safe room but Maxon had already found time in there to change into his spec-ops uniform consisting of black pants, black boots and a black shirt that would later go under a turtle-neck and jacket. He was taking guns he kept hidden in his desk and placing them in the hidden holsters all over his uniform. The rebels had done a number on his study, the sofas and bookshelves torn apart. Maids were bustling about, trying to get everything back to order.

Military personnel were also running around with their own opinions on how to catch up to the rebels. I stood dutifully by Maxon's side, not even trying to offer any of my own input because I knew that I was out of my league in this.

"Sir, we can't spare the men. They could come back and attack here and right now, with the intensity of their attacks, we need all of the men we can get here." The general reminded my husband.

He bowed his head and sighed. "Okay, well how many men do we have in spec-ops if we keep all of the ones that are also palace guards?"

The General paused, doing the math in his head. "We'd lose a third." He informed Maxon. "It is your decision, Your Majesty."

"Where's my father?" Maxon suddenly requested.

"Your father sir?" the General repeated. "He left, about twenty minutes ago. He said that he'd told you he was leaving."

Maxon's face paled. "I'm sorry, but run that by me again. He _left_?"

The General gulped and nodded. "Yes, sir, twenty minutes ago. He said that he had important business to take care of immediately. He said that he'd told you…"

"Yes, I'm sure he did." Maxon rolled his eyes and sighed. Then he looked in my direction. He shook his head slightly and pulled out a gun and smaller holster. He motioned for me to sit. He slid the holster up my calf and handed the gun to me. "Look before you shoot." He instructed, placing it in my hand when I didn't move to take it.

My blood started to get colder. "Be careful." I whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. I was worried, I'll admit. I had no idea where he was going, what he'd encounter, and what he was doing. I reached a hand up to cup his face and leaned in to kiss him.

When he pulled away he looked at me sadly but I could see the excitement in his eyes. I had known this man for a year and it didn't take me long to realize how much he enjoyed the adventure in these little escapades. It wasn't normal for the heir to the throne to be part of the spec-ops team – the team with the highest casualty rate in the military – but he was a good soldier, a tough fighter, and a fearsome opponent. It was a way for him to ventilate all of his pent up anger and hurt caused by his father's abuse and he told me that he liked the assurance in the feeling of the cold steel gun in his hand, so solid and so ready to destroy.

"I love you." He whispered, his voice barely heard amidst the clamor of the world around us. He straightened to his full height and pulled on the rest of his uniform, holding his helmet in one hand and face mask in the other. "Officer Leger, I'm entrusting you with Princess America's safety, as well as Princess Elizabeth." He ordered to Aspen, who was standing opposite him at the large desk.

Aspen nodded and looked between us. "No harm will come to them. You have my word." He promised. Maxon squeezed my hand one last time and then walked out of the room. I watched him go and when he turned back to look at me in the doorway, I blew him a kiss. He smiled and nodded to me, then pulled on his helmet and was gone.

**Okay, real quick, two things: I actually got America's age screwed up. I had it in my head that she was sixteen in the Selection but turns out she's seventeen so sorry, that was an error on my part. At this point in the story, she is eighteen (her birthday passed in the time that she was pregnant with Libby) and Maxon is still twenty. **

**Also, King Clarkson's reference to one of Amberly's pregnancies also brought up the name Arthur which for me, I'm pronouncing it Are-tour. It's not that important but I personally am not a fan of the regular Arthur so I just wanted to clarify that. **

**PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: I'M GOING AWAY FOR A WEEK ON SATURDAY AND WILL NOT BE UPDATING AT ALL FROM JULY 6-13! Another mission trip, lo siento. I'll try my best to update tomorrow and leave y'all with another good cliffhanger. **

**Lastly, thank you to unicornlady23 and BestFan00 for the awesome reviews! All of you guys seriously rock! Keep it up with the reviews! Happy 4****th**** of July y'all!**


	20. Chapter 20

_Don't pray for an easy life. Pray for the strength to endure a hard one. – Bruce Lee_

* * *

It was three days before we heard anything. There was very little work done as Queen Amberly and I sat on pins and needles, waiting for any news concerning our husbands. Then, finally, as we both sat staring at a dinner neither of us had the appetite for a footmen came in and announced the imminent arrival of Prince Maxon and King Clarkson.

We heard their voices before we saw them. I ran out of the Women's Room and down the main staircase and found him barking orders at the other men he'd been with to take the rebels down to the cells. Amberly was right behind me. Finally, he looked up at me and without the slightest acknowledgement returned his attention to his duties.

From where I stood – about ten steps up the staircase – I could witness everything occurring in the foyer below me. King Clarkson was standing back, for once allowing his son to take care of everything. They both looked worse for wear, Maxon even having dried blood splattered on his uniform. The rebels were drug away, leaving a few soldiers and Maxon and King Clarkson in the foyer.

I waited for Maxon to come to me. And when he did, he surprised me by taking me in his arms for a back-breaking hug. Then he ushered me up the steps, saying, "We need to talk." Again, he surprised me by not taking me to his study but instead taking me to our bedroom. "Where's Libby?"

"In the nursery." I crossed my arms as he walked promptly to the nursery and came back with our daughter in his arms. We stood a distance apart as he gathered his thoughts, studying Libby's face. He snapped his gaze up to look at me.

"I'm sorry to be so brash with you. I just needed to see my family." He explained vaguely. "America, I hate to dump this on you now, but our coronation will be in two weeks."

"What about this mess with the rebels?" I asked him, stepping closer.

He shrugged. "I know our actions over these last few days won't go unanswered but for now, we can't do anything besides try to get answers out of this girl. Her name would be a nice start."

I smiled and finally got close enough to him to brush a hand over his shoulder. "Are you hurt?" I finally asked.

He hesitated. "I think I dislocated my shoulder." My hand instantly froze, my eyes widening. He chuckled and shook his head. "The other one. I was planning on going to see the doctor when I was done with you two."

"Maxon Calix, you go to the doctor right now!" I demanded. I practically ripped Libby from his arms and slipped his behind in the direction of the door. "Go on, now."

He laughed. "I come home and get spanked by my wife, that's a new one." As he opened the door, he revealed a guard poised to knock. "Do you have any news for me, Officer Adams?"

"Sir, there is a maid down in the cells refusing to leave until she can speak with Princess America." The guard looked past Maxon to me. Maxon turned and looked at me over his shoulder and then whispered something to the guard that I couldn't make out. "Yes, sir, I will." The guard half-bowed.

Putting his good arm around me shoulders Maxon said, "This guard will take you down. Don't speak to the maid unless it is to answer a direct question. If then, don't tell the full truth."

"What's going on?" I asked him, knowing that he was keeping secrets from me and desperately wanting for him to tell me the truth.

He sighed. "We think this maid may be the one to be a spy from the rebels. I'll go to the doctor, get my shoulder fixed, and then I'll meet you." He kissed my forehead and we went our separate ways down the hallway. I went down to the cells and went through the guards who all grimaced as I passed.

I looked up at Officer Adams who was carefully avoiding eye contact. I heard the maid yelling before I saw her, her protests drowning out the other criminals yelling at me. I wished I had Maxon next to me, just to hold his hand and feel his strength and know that he'll be there to protect me but Officer Adams looked more than up to the task.

The rebel girl was again in the last cell in the row, with the maid standing outside and smiling at me when she saw me approach. When I saw her, I realized how much of an idiot I had been this whole time. How could I not see that these girls were related? They both looked the same and both looked like Maxon! The king had said that Julia was pregnant with twins; these two girls had to be them. Though they weren't identical, they were surely sisters. Same eyes, same blonde hair.

But one had cane scars on her hands.

Marlee.

She was a rebel spy.

"How could you?" I demanded, stepping up close to her. In the confined space, my back was pressed up against Officer Adams.

Marlee smiled her innocent smile. Marlee, who had just had a baby boy, who was so happily married to Carter, who was pulling for me to win the Selection the entire time. It just didn't make sense in my head. "America, there is something you must understand." She said, looking like she was about to beg me for something.

I shook my head. "You're a rebel! You've been a rebel the whole time! How could you betray me like this? I thought you were my best friend!"

"America, please…"

"It's Princess America to you!" I shouted at her, making her shrink back. Her sister crept up to the bars and hovered near her.

Marlee sighed. "Princess America, you should know that I don't want to hurt you or your family. Just give us what we need and we'll be out of your hair."

She wasn't begging me for clemency like she ought to have been, she was compromising. I wasn't buying it. "We won't give you the journals." I told her, already knowing that's what they wanted.

The other girl spoke up. "What good are they to you all?"

"Rebecca, shush!" Marlee piped over her shoulder. "But really, Am…Princess America, what are you doing with them besides keeping them hidden away in a secret vault gathering dust? Give them to us and no one else will get hurt."

"You're threatening me?" I asked. "Marlee, what about Carter, or Samson? What about _your _family? Was any of your act real?"

She laughed. "Of course not. I had to get on the inside to find out where you're keeping the journals. My mother started the rebellion, Rebecca and I are here to finish it."

"What's going on down here?" Maxon said from behind me. He came striding up to us, observing the scene in front of him with a critical eye. "Marlee…" he whispered so that only I could hear it.

Tears filled my eyes but I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, "We should have killed you when we were supposed to."

"Look at you." She sneered. "Talking like them, talking like you're one of them. You're not. You're no better than the rest of us. You got lucky, happening to fall in love with him. I doubt you would have ever told him your true feelings if I didn't encourage you. Really, you were just using him for the money and food. How does that make you superior to us?"

Maxon pushed past me and lowered his face so it was inches from hers. "I hope you enjoy your last days alive, Marlee Tames, if that's even your real name."

"I guess you'll never know." She whispered, not backing down.

"Lock her up, far away from this one." He ordered, ushering me to walk in front of him. We walked down the narrow, musty corridor in silence. We didn't talk until we were in his study. I knew he was deep in thought and wouldn't want to sit so I took his place in his comfy leather chair behind his desk.

I felt tears sting my eyes. "Why would she do this?" I finally asked.

"She knew what she was doing before she even got here," he whispered back to me. He leaned on the edge of the desk, watching me carefully. "America…I'm sorry."

Wiping away the tears that had fallen I shook my head. "She's better dead to me. Then, I can act like today never happened. Like not everything she ever said to me was a lie." My voice was starting to crack.

He looked at me with sad eyes. He brushed a hand through my hair and I held it close to my face, fiddling with his wedding band. "You don't have to go to the execution."

I shook my head again. "No, I do. She's responsible for how many lives? I owe it to those people to go. I'm going to be queen in a few weeks and it's time a master the art of remaining calm." I told him. He nodded, choosing not to say anything because I knew that he couldn't argue that.

* * *

A few days later, the day of the execution, it was gray and unseasonably cold. Maxon and I dressed in the customary black, even though there'd be no mourning the two rebels being put to death. At least not from the public. We had arranged ahead of time for Libby to be kept in the nursery, watched over by the nanny we'd hired prior to her birth.

I was bundled in a gray fur pelisse as Rebecca and Marlee were led up to the gallows in the square by the palace. I snuck a glance down at Carter and instantly regretted it. Carter wasn't a rebel, we knew that for sure. He had no idea that she was a rebel the entire time. He was simply another game piece in the rebels' master plan.

Like a cannon being shot off, they were dropped through the floor, losing their lives in seconds. As royalty, we all had to wait until the civilians and everyone else from the palace left the square before we could leave. That just made it worse. We had to watch the bodies being taken down and be placed in the wooden caskets. Maxon held my hand the entire time in a white-knuckled grip. Luckily we were sitting between Queen Amberly and King Clarkson because they'd yet to speak to each other since he had returned with Maxon from the mission. Maxon wouldn't tell me what his father was doing and why he left so suddenly.

It wasn't until we were in our bedroom that night, with Libby asleep between us as we lay in bed trying to sleep, that we both cried. Maxon felt guilty for trusting her and sparing her life. He knew that his father would probably punish him for it and that there was nothing I could do to stop that. I had simply lost one of my best friends and my only confidante.

**Well, it's not a cliff hanger but it's what I'm leaving y'all with for the next week. (Sorry!) I'll try my best to write while I'm gone but I have a lot of work still to do for summer reading. Please review guys!**

**P.S. You like the picture for the book? **


	21. Chapter 21

_You've got the words to change a nation but you're biting your tongue. You've been a lifetime stuck in silence, afraid you'll say something wrong. You've got a heart as loud as lions, so don't let your voice be tame. Baby we're a little different, there's no need to be ashamed. - Read All About It_

* * *

"Libby, wait, I haven't finished your hair yet!" I called after my little three-year-old helplessly, dropping the hair brush to the carpet. I heard her squeals echoing out of the room and decided that a ponytail was good enough for the day.

Maxon came in with her hanging from his shoulder. She was giggling and playfully hitting his back, asking to be put down. He was tickling her feet and laughing along with her. "Did you lose someone?" he asked, setting her down in front of where I knelt on the floor.

I sighed and kept a firm hand on her shoulder so that she would stay sitting. He dropped one of her dolls into her lap and stood with his hands on his hips. "Do you have the schedule from Silvia of events this week?"

"Yes, I do." I told him. "She gave it to me yesterday. Although I don't know why we need it. Your father is probably going to change his mind about retiring just like he did three years ago."

"I think he just didn't want to what with everything going on between him and Mom back then. He needed something to do besides wallow in his own self-pity." Maxon sighed, recalling when his father told him that he'd decided to not retire until Maxon had 'gained more respect from the people.'

I rolled my eyes. "Okay Miss Libby, you may go play; I'm done your hair now." She bounded off, her doll in tow. Maxon took my hand and helped me up, surprising me by pulling me in for a tight hug.

We kissed passionately for several moments and then he pulled away. "I had a thought."

"Oh, it's a miracle!" I exclaimed, cutting him off.

He smirked and tried to hide a laugh. "Yes, yes, it is quite miraculous. Anyway, I had a thought this morning. While I was watching you sleep and Libby sleep…maybe it is time for us to have another baby."

"Maxon." I sighed, turning my face away and already starting to retreat.

"Why not?" he challenged, tugging on my hands. "America, it's been a year since the miscarriage. We can't live in fear of it happening again our entire lives."

The miscarriage. Here he was, talking about it again. Our son, malformed and kept from my eyes when he was born four months early. Maxon had seen him and promptly taken him from the room so that I would not have to bear witness to our dead child. Yes, it had been a year…but I still didn't feel ready. "And if it does happen again? What then?"

He heard the sadness in my voice but he pressed on, keeping his hands on my shoulders. "Ames," he used my nickname, hoping to provoke something in me to get me to agree, "we won't know until we try. I promise, if it doesn't work this time we can give up but please…"

"I'll think about it." I told him sternly and he understood, after three years of marriage, that me thinking about it was one step closer to a yes and three steps away from a no.

And I did think about it. Much to Silvia's dismay, I was distracted for the rest of the afternoon. I spent my lunch hour in my study making a pro-con list that ended up being four pages long of pros and only a half-page of cons.

I received a note from Maxon saying that he had business he had to take care of and he instructed me to get ready for bed without him and to not wait up for him. I got Libby ready for bed. She was still too young to get herself ready for bed and fussed through most of it. "Mommy, I don't want to go to bed." She whined.

I shook my head. "I know, but it is past your bedtime and we have a big day tomorrow. Aunt May and Aunt Kenna and Uncle Kota and Uncle Gerad…and mom-mom and pop-pop. Your cousins are coming too." I reminded her. "You can stay up later tomorrow but tonight I want you to go to bed early."

She pouted. "Where's Daddy?" she asked me, letting me slide her nightgown over her head.

"He's doing work. You know he's been busy lately."

"I didn't get to see him at all today."

My heart felt heavy as I was overwhelmed by the truth of her words. I froze for a few seconds before moving behind her to braid her long red hair. "You got to see him at dinner."

She shrugged. "But he wasn't talking to me. Did I do something bad?"

"Oh no, honey! Daddy isn't mad at you. He's just stressed. He has a big job to do and a lot of people he has to take care of and right now it isn't so easy to take care of them." I told her. "Daddy loves you very much. You know that."

"But he hasn't talked to me." She insisted, jumping into her bed. Tears gathered in her brown eyes. I wiped them away with my fingers.

"Don't cry baby." I whispered, sitting next to her on her bed. "We both love you very much. Okay?"

She nodded and sniffed. "Can you sing?"

"Yeah." I breathed. She rolled over on her side and hugged her teddy bear to her chest. "_Be still and know that I am with you, be still and know that I am here. Be still and know that I am with you, be still, be still, and know…when darkness comes upon you and covers you with fear and shame, be still and know that I am with you and I will say your name_." Her eyes were closed and her breathing was calm. I knew that getting her to go to bed would be difficult but once she was in bed she would go out like a light.

"I love hearing you sing that song." Maxon said from the door. I snuffed out the lamp next to her bed, the only light coming from the luminaire in the corner of her room. I met him at the door and looked back at her sleeping form and was saddened all over again. "Can you come walk with me in the gardens?" he asked, extending his hand.

I nodded. "Of course." I agreed, pulling the door to Libby's room shut behind me. "You finished early?"

"Actually, I have an idea about this war that I need to run past you." He told me.

I sighed. "First, the conversation I just had with Libby made me really sad. It's weighing heavily on me."

"What was it about?" he asked, sensing my somber mood and wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulders.

"She's upset because you haven't been talking to her. She thinks that she did something wrong and you're mad at her. Of course I explained to her that you're not and she's ridiculous for even considering that. But it makes me sad hearing that she thinks you don't love her." I recounted.

He frowned and opened the door to the gardens for me. "She's right though. I mean, I love her more than anything – except you, of course – but I've been so busy. And really I haven't been able to spend as much time with you as I've wanted to. But I promise, this week I'm completely devoting myself to our family."

I recognized his tone. It was the same one he used when there was something big he needed to tell me. "Which brings me to this idea I wanted to discuss with you." He motioned for me to sit on our bench. "You're going to hate it." He warned.

"Then why are you discussing it with me?" I asked, laughing nervously.

He sighed. "Because it will have a pretty big impact on both of us." He paused and collected his thoughts. "We're getting desperate for more men to join the military for the country. The volunteer idea was great at first and I'm not saying that it's failing but right now, the war in New Asia is just too deadly for men to willingly enter themselves into it. So, they need a rallying point. I've talked to my father and advisors about it and they've agreed it is what's best for the country. I'm going to go fight."

I started shaking my head. "No. No, Maxon, you can't."

"It's what is best. My father actually agreed with me on that."

I laughed darkly. "Yes, because your father has always known what's best for you." I said sarcastically. "Maxon, you're almost the king; your father shouldn't even be privy to this stuff anymore."

"I told you darling, my father won't cease to control things until he is dead or until I can find a way to get rid of him." He said patiently.

I paused for a few moments. "Do you have any ideas?"

"A few. But you have to understand that for them to work, absolutely no one can know about them." He saw the betrayal in my eyes. "You know I trust you wholly but I explained to you before that sometimes I have to place the betterment of the country before you and our children."

I nodded. "You can't give me even a small hint? Is there already a plan in place?"

"More or less." He gave me a sly smile and stood up, taking my hand. "Now, let's go get you in bed." He draped an arm around my shoulder.

I reached up and held the hand by my shoulder. "But I'm not even tired." I whined, imitating Libby.

He shook his head and smiled flirtatiously. "I can assure you madam that we will be doing very little sleeping tonight. I hope you are well rested."

Laughing, I kissed the back of his hand. "Always."

Up in our bedroom, I waited for him to brush his teeth and change in our bed. When we came back into our room he was holding something in his hands. "I've been waiting to give this to you since we were engaged." He sighed, sitting down on the bed. I curled up next to him and watched him stroke the velvet box. He had a bad habit of giving me more jewelry than I would ever be able to wear but I wasn't complaining. "This ring has been worn by all of Illéa's queens and is very precious to my family. I hope you will always wear it and let it serve as a reminder for your love of this country."

"Maxon, do you have to give a speech for every piece of jewelry you give me?"

He laughed and took out the ring. It was silver with the Illéa emblem on the sides and a red stone in the middle. "You wear it on the middle finger of your right hand." It was pointless for him to say that since he was the one putting it on my finger.

I sat for a few moments, admiring the ring and thinking about my day. "So, with you leaving, I guess a baby wouldn't be a good idea."

"I'll be back before you know it."

I looked away. "There's so much that could happen." I whispered, voicing my fears.

He nodded. "I know. But in the event that something did happen, I would want to leave you with a piece of me. Something that could keep you going, even on days you don't think you have the strength to."

I frowned. "You're talking like you're already gone."

"Nothing is going to happen to me." He promised. "Three months, tops. Then I'll have a large portion of my military time out of the way. When I get back I'll assume my role as king. You'll be elevated to queen in a couple days as will I but for now, you'll have to serve as the king and queen."

Taking a deep breath, I looked at him sadly. "That's not helping your case for a baby. Look, I have Libby who is growing up to be more like you every day. She can help me through anything that I may or may not have to go through. A baby would just add burden to a load that is already becoming too heavy to bear."

He nodded in agreement. "Very well then. A baby is out of the picture." He paused and smiled. "But I'd still like to wildly make love to all night."

I laughed. "You're so dumb."

He rolled so he was hovering over me. "I love you, Queen America Schreave."

"I love you, King Maxon."

**So I had this one half-done and figured I may as well add it before I leave. Please review, y'all have been slacking lately!**


	22. Chapter 22

"_Christians never really say goodbye to each other. Christians always have each other in their hearts, no matter how far apart they are. Whether it's a few feet or the other side of the world, they are there…together."_

* * *

_Faith is the art of holding on to things in spite of your changing moods and circumstances. – C.S. Lewis_

* * *

I walked with Maxon down to the back door or the palace where he'd be getting in the chopper that would take him to the army base in St. George and then to New Asia. He had already said goodbye to Libby in the nursery. She was a mess, crying and clinging to his leg. He couldn't tell her how long he'd be gone because he didn't even know himself.

He sighed and adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. "Be careful." I whispered, not wanting to talk any louder because it would betray my sadness.

He nodded. "Of course." Then he smiled wickedly. "But not too careful."

I rolled my eyes, not really appreciating his humor. "Maxon, please come home." I said.

He took a deep breath and looked at the chopper behind him like it was a coffin. "You know I can't make a promise like that."

"Then don't make it a promise. Make it a vow."

"They're the same thing America."

I frowned, tears brimming. He cupped my hand with one hand and a sob escaped me. Then he pulled me tight against him as I cried. "Let it out now." He instructed. I listened, sobbing into his chest for several moments before he finally pushed me away from him for the first time since we'd gotten married. He held my shoulders tightly. "It's your time now. React with your heart, regret with your mind." Then he was walking away from me.

I watched the chopper take off and fly away until it was a black spec in the sky. A guard ushered me inside and I immediately went to the nursery and cried with Libby. I wasn't crying because I missed him, I was crying because it already seemed like he was dead.

* * *

_September 6, St. George_

_Dear Ames, _

_ I'm shipping out to New Asia tomorrow. I can't tell you exactly where I'll be going there for security reasons. I miss you so much. We've been doing a lot of training here and I've been really busy or I would write more. Unfortunately, being the king does not get you out of doing drills from sun-up to sun-down._

_ I promise to write you whenever I can but I imagine we'll still be busy once I get to New Asia. I hope you and Libby are both well. I love you._

_ Maxon_

* * *

_September 20, Angeles_

_Dear Maxon, _

_I haven't heard from you in a while; should I be worried? All is well here. The plans for the coronation are proceeding smoothly. Your mother and I both agreed that the queen's dress is absolutely hideous and so unflattering so we are going to get a new one designed. Libby insists that it should be 'pink with lots of bedazzles' but I don't think she's going to win that battle. _

_ Oh Maxon, I wish you could see her. She's growing up so fast. I swear she grows a foot every day. Pretty soon I'm going to order new clothes for her because she is outgrowing them so fast. She already has enough clothes she won't wear because it would take twenty years if she were to wear them all and growing so much certainly doesn't help that! The other night she read a whole book from her princess anthology to me. She's so smart. Her hair is getting blonder by the day, so that's something you can be smug about. _

_ I hope that you are okay, where ever you are. I love you forever._

_ America_

* * *

_October 17, Angeles_

_Dear Maxon, _

_ Please, Maxon, write to me. It doesn't have to be a full letter…it can be three words long. Just enough to tell me that you're relatively safe. Please. Libby was sick last week but she's doing a lot better now. The doctor said it was just a bug but I'm crossing my fingers that it wasn't too contagious anyway!_

_ I love you._

_ America_

* * *

_November 29, Angeles_

_ It's been over two months Maxon. Where are you? I don't even know if you're getting my letters but your mother is starting to panic and I don't know how much longer I can lie to her about you writing to me. Just send me something, anything._

_ America_

* * *

_December 24, New Asia_

_America,_

_ Merry Christmas my darling. I'm safe. Give Libby a hug for me. I won't be able to write for a long while. Tell Mother not to panic; worry lines are unbecoming. I love you._

_ Maxon_

* * *

Four months into Maxon's absence, I found myself starting to adjust to not having him with me. I had stopped receiving letters from him but he had warned me beforehand that he may not always be able to write. I was doing a majority of his work which could be tedious and difficult. I enjoyed it though; it gave me something to do.

I was in the Women's Room doing work one morning. There was a bill that Maxon had been trying to pass – it had gone through Parliament four times already and had been turned down every time – so I was trying to revise it to see if rewording it would finally do the trick. Amberly was playing with Libby by the windows, playing a game that involved spotting certain things outside in the gardens.

"Your Majesty," a maid said to me, "His Former Majesty has requested to enter."

I looked up at her and nodded. "Let him in." I told her, returning my attention to the bill. Libby gave him the pouty face that Maxon had taught her to do whenever she saw her grandfather. He gave me a stiff bow and sighed.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is important." His voice was serious and grave, which caught my attention. The only emotion he normally showed was anger and arrogance. Distress was new. "Amberly, please come over. I need to speak with both of you."

Amberly set Libby down. She immediately ran over to me and hugged one of my arms. Amberly stood next to Clarkson dutifully. "What is it?" she whispered.

"I just received news from New Asia. It seems," he paused to clear his throat, "Maxon is gone." He finally looked up at me and met my gaze.

Every nerve and blood cell in my body froze like ice. "Gone?" I repeated. "What kind of gone?"

"Shot down in battle. By the time the medics reached him, there was nothing they could do." His voice was cracking.

There was no way…no way this was true. Maxon…dead. Two words that had no relationship prior, nothing that could make them related. But they were two words that would change my life. Maxon was immune to death. He wasn't allowed to die. I wasn't allowing him to be dead. Libby wouldn't understand. I didn't understand. It was just a month ago that I had held him in my arms, stroked his neck, felt his solid tangibility.

Looking to Amberly, I shook my head. "There's no way." I whispered to her. "Maxon wouldn't…he can't…" Tears started to pool as I saw her eyes cloud over. Realization swept over me like a tidal wave. I suddenly couldn't breathe…I couldn't remember how to breathe. I was still frozen. Had my lungs frozen too?

Amberly came to me and hugged me, sobbing into my shoulder. I tried to say something but words wouldn't come to me. My throat had frozen too. Libby asked what was wrong but I couldn't answer her. How could I tell her that her father was…was gone? I carefully pulled away from Amberly and held Libby's hand tightly in my own. "May I see the letter?" I asked him quietly.

He shook his head. "No letter. A footmen."

I sighed and nodded. Something in me realized that this was wrong, I should have been crying but even if I tried to cry I wouldn't be able to. Sometimes there are some kinds of sadness that not even tears can express. Libby looked up at me with her big brown eyes, copied exactly from Maxon's face to hers. Even her hair was the exact same shade of blonde as his. "Ow, Mommy, that hurts." She whined.

I quickly released her hand, noticing that I had a white-knuckled grip on it. Covering my mouth with my hand I dashed out of the room to my bedroom, forgetting completely about my confused daughter in the sheer agony I was feeling as my heart was being torn out of my chest.

Not even making it to my bed, I collapsed on the floor of the King's Suite. The soft rug pressed into my cheek as the sobs shook my entire body. Everything about this room was _Maxon_. His books that were stacked on his side of the bed. His robe draped over the back of the sofa. His scent filled the room, even after four months. With all of this still around me, how could he be gone?

I lost all recollection of time and the meaning of life. I couldn't think about anything. I forgot about my poor daughter, who later had to be told by a maid that I wasn't feeling well and that the nanny would put her to bed. I didn't know how long I was laying there; I just knew that I wanted to die there.

**So things escalated pretty quickly in this chapter. Again, I'm back! I'll be home for three weeks before I go away again so hopefully I'll finish this in that time. I noticed that I was officially on the second page of results for this book so I decided that I just HAD to update ASAP. Please review!**


	23. Chapter 23

_I wanna sing, I wanna shout. I wanna scream til the words dry out. So put it in all of the papers, I'm not afraid, they can read all about, read all about it._

* * *

I didn't leave our bedroom for two days. I didn't change my clothes for two days. I didn't do anything but sit in silence for two days. The piano sitting in the corner that had for so long had been my companion during tough times seemed like a stranger to me. Grief like this could not be soothed by music. Two days after the news of Maxon's death came to me, Libby found me in our bedroom. She was already dressed for the day in a little blue dress and matching sandals.

"Mama?" she asked, coming and curling up in my lap, facing me. "Don't be sad."

I sighed. "Libby," I sighed, dreading having to talk to her. Her big brown eyes focused on me with the same intensity Maxon used to. "Libby, listen, I have to talk to you about your father."

"Where is he Mama?"

"He can't come home." I told her, not wanting to tell her the whole truth. Three-year-olds don't understand death but I didn't want to be a parent to tell my daughter that her father was on vacation. "It's just you and me now."

She frowned. "But I thought you were going to give me a little brother."

I laughed, trying to cover up my heartbreak. "Not without Daddy."

There was knock on the door followed by the Nanny and a footman. "It is time for your breakfast Lady Eliza." The nanny said, scooping Libby into her arms and ushering her out.

The footman approached with a letter on a silver tray for me. "This is for you, Your Majesty."

I bolted off of the sofa. "From New Asia?" I demanded, part of me starting to hope foolishly.

He shook his head. "No ma'am. It was in His Majesty's desk with instructions to deliver it to you immediately."

I took it and stroked the edges of the envelope. "Thank you. Return to your duties please." He bowed and walked out, leaving me alone with the letter. The fire in the fireplace cracked and popped, begging for another log to fuel it. I sat down on the sofa, wrapped in Maxon's robe, and with shaking fingers, opened the letter.

_America, _

_ If you are reading this, something has gone terribly wrong. I am hoping that you won't ever have to read this letter. If you have received this letter because I've died just remember this: despite the vows we took on our wedding day, death will never separate us. _

_ You're scared, I know. Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. But in this letter there are instructions enclosed because I also know that you're looking for some guidance from your brilliant and handsome husband. The most important thing I have to tell you America is to watch for my father. He's going to grasp this opportunity to seize the throne back but you know the law…you can't let him do it._

_ Whether it's twenty, thirty, or sixty years before we're reunited again in death, I can't wait. But don't rush to me. Live your life the way it ought to be lived. Take care of our beautiful daughter and when the Selection comes along, do not let her marry some strange man who just wants to be prince and be wealthy. My biggest regret in life is that it was so short and it was cut off right at the time that I wanted to live through the most but remember, sometimes the country comes first. I wish I could take that rule back now though. _

_ I'm leaving for New Asia tomorrow and I'm afraid that this is the last night I'll get to sleep with you in my arms. I know you're not happy with me, no matter how much you smile at me and swear everything is okay. I'm afraid of not what life will be like without you, but what your life will be like without me. _

_ I love you. Simple as that. Words can't describe my love for you. Keep your head up high. Don't let your crown droop, Princess America. _

_ Love, forever and then eternity,_

_ Maxon_

I traced for fingers over the letter for what seemed like ages. I pulled out the other slips of paper inside with clearly laid-out instructions on everything I would need to know in the event of an emergency or if I ever wanted to pass a bill without him there to give the final word. He also included the page from the Book of New Law where I could find the bill that he had passed shortly before he'd left because he knew I would need it.

"Don't let your crown droop." I whispered, laughing on the inside. It was such a Maxon-thing to say. But there was something more to it than him trying to be romantic and cute. He was telling me to be strong, to push past this grief and to use my power as a form of therapy. Here I was, the most powerful person in the country, wallowing in despair in my bedroom.

I walked to my closet and pulled out a simple day dress and went to take a shower. Once I was freshened up I pulled on the dress and did my hair, just letting it hang loose around my shoulders. I studied my reflection in the mirror.

I emanated power, wherever I was. I raised my chin and there…there was the confidence I needed. My eyes hardened into orbs of ice, cold and frozen and challenging. I didn't need a crown. I needed a strong heart. His last words to me were "react with your heart, regret with your head." Well, that was a different time, a different circumstance. Now I needed to react with my head and not regret at all.

This letter to me was not a farewell or something for me to keep in remembrance of him. He didn't write the letter with that intent. He wanted me to use it as a way to climb back to the top. He knew just how I'd react to his death and he gave me a way to claw out of the hole he knew I'd be in and ultimately, he gave me my life back.

I wasn't simply a One anymore. I was _the _One. And as the One, it was my duty to destroy the men that destroyed my husband.

**Please review! I loved your reviews from the last chapter and trust me, this will all turn out in one way or another. (Insert evil laugh here.) I know it's short but I had to leave it there to make it more natural.**


	24. Chapter 24

_I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake. – Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

The morning of the funeral was windy with the clouds threatening to dump rain at any moment. My mom joined me in my bedroom as I got changed into a simple black dress. "You're so strong." She whispered in my ear as she hugged me from behind and I studied me reflection in the mirror.

"It's in the job description." I mumbled, shrugging away from her. I picked up my black scarf and coat and walked over to Libby's room. She was dressed in a gray and black flowered dress, not quite understanding why she had to wear black.

"Mommy, black is an ugly color." She shifted in her dress uncomfortably. "This dress is so itchy."

I rolled my eyes and picked her up. "You wanna sit with me today?" I asked her, sitting her on my hip. Her blonde curls bounced as she nodded.

"I never get to sit with you at important stuff Mommy!" she exclaimed. "I always have to sit with Miss Lisa and she isn't as cool as you." I cracked a smile and walked out of the nursery, setting her on the ground but keeping one of her hands tucked tightly in my own. "Mommy, you look pretty. I like your hair. I wish my hair looked like yours."

My hair was just straightened and brushed back to one side. "Libby, your hair is beautiful. You have your father's hair which is now a priceless quality."

"Right, because he went up to live with Arthur." She said quietly, her voice sad suddenly.

Telling her that her father had gone to live Arthur was the only way it seemed for me to be able to convey that he had died to her three-year-old mind. "Well one of us had to raise your brother right."

"But you know how you said that I'd never see him again? I saw him last night!" She skipped suddenly, smiling brightly.

I stopped abruptly and faced her, crouching so I could be on eye-level with her. "What do you mean you saw him last night? Were you dreaming?"

She shook her head. "No, I swear! He was in my room. Arthur wasn't with him though. It was just Daddy and he was fixing the fire to make it bigger. He looked really dirty. At first I thought it was one of those rebels you told me about but then he turned to me and asked if it was him and he just smiled, waved, and walked out."

"Libby, you were dreaming." I told her.

"Really mommy! It was him!" She was jumping in aggravation. Tears brimmed in her brown eyes. "Do you not believe me?"

I sighed. "Honey, I can't take this right now, okay? We need to get downstairs."

* * *

That night, as I was sleeping in our big bed alone, I heard someone say my name. Burrowing my face deeper into my pillow, a finger swept over my arm, creating a trail of fire. My name was whispered again. There was a thump nearby, followed by the crackle and pop of the fire that had been dying but was now roaring with life. I opened my eyes and didn't see anything except for the orange glow of the fire illuminating my room.

I laid my head back down on my pillow and curled into a ball, staring out at the gardens outside our room. Then I noticed a glint of silver on Maxon's pillow. I sat up abruptly and picked up his wedding band – or an exact replica – laying alone on the soft cotton. I crouched in bed, looking around the room for any sign of disturbance but everything was just as I had left it when I went to bed.

Careful to not make any noise, I crept over to Libby's room and brought her back to my room to sleep with me. I was comforted by her solid body sleeping soundly next to me, her quiet respirations like a midnight lullaby written by Mozart. I slid the ring over my wedding rings and curled up next to Libby, hugging her close to me.

The next morning at breakfast, King Clarkson approached me. "Excuse me, Queen America. I would like to discuss some important matters with you." He looked unnerved.

I raised my eyebrows. "Of course. Do you mind sitting and eating whilst we discuss these important matters? I have a long day and will most likely not eat lunch for a long time."

He sat down next to Amberly who was helping to feed Libby while I read over a report. "Your Majesty, I understand that you have called forth all of the advisers today for an emergency meeting. Well, you see, I was thinking that I could escort you and stand in for your husband for the time being. Anything you need help with, I would gladly provide it."

I frowned. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I think I am quite okay without your help. I am capable of ruling on my own."

"Well there is a law that in the event that the king dies or is otherwise unable to rule, the last king may stand in at the queen's desire."

"Yes, at the queen's desire." I repeated. "But the queen does not desire your help as of yet so please, let the matter go and allow me to rule on my own two feet."

His face turned red. "Your Majesty, the Law states that I must serve as Regent until Libby is married and her husband can be king."

"Libby is three." I stood and squared my shoulders against him. "And until you can find proof of that actually being law, I will be ruling as both king and queen." I brushed past him harshly and walked to my study.

There was a picture of Maxon posing in his military garb sitting by my books and notepads. In the corner I had tucked in a picture of him in his casual clothes holding Libby when she was a few weeks old and smiling at the camera. Sighing, I pulled out the letter I had gotten from him and stroked his ring that I had put on a silver chain so I could keep it hidden under my clothes. The parchment he'd written the letter on was already starting to fray on the edges and the words were starting to fade. There were spots scattered throughout from my tears.

"Oh Maxon, what went wrong?" I whispered, setting the letter down next to his picture. I ordered tea from a maid and started preparing my notes for the meeting when there was a knock on my door. "Come in." Aspen poked his head around the door and smiled sadly. "Stop that." I told him.

He looked confused as he approached, closing the door behind him. "Stop what?"

"Every time you've seen me this past week you've given me the same pitiful smile that everyone else on the planet has been giving me. It's a smile that says, _I don't know what else to do when I meet you because I feel like you're going to fall apart if I give you a genuine smile but it's wrong of me to not smile at all_. My husband died, so what? It's passed, I'm done with it now." I ranted.

He nodded. "So, you don't want me to smile at you whenever I see you?"

"No, yes!...Just not in a specific way." I sighed. I looked up at him and saw that he was still smiling at me with the same smile. "What people don't realize is that the smile just makes me want to cry even more because they are just reminding me of what's happened."

"I thought you said you're done with it?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know. Honestly, I'm just living my life day-by-day, doing work and spending time with my daughter."

"And trying not to cry every other second?"

"You're awfully quizzical today, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Just trying to understand what's going on with you. It's like you've shut down, but in a way you're still just as alive as before. Like, you're just a skeleton of the old America."

"That's all I am without Maxon."

He shook his head. "Don't let one person define you, Mer."

"Easy for you to say, you've never loved anyone like I loved Maxon." He dipped his head and I instantly wanted to take the words back. "I'm sorry, I just…"

"I get it." He sighed, turning for the door. "I'm from a different part of your life and you don't like to think about it. Just, do me a favor and don't forget who taught you how to love." With that he left, the door slamming behind him.

**I feel like I'm going to be permanently depressed if I have to keep writing chapters like this. So, is America dreaming or is there someone creeping around her bedroom at night? Review and let me know what you think!**


	25. Chapter 25

_Losing him was blue like I'd never known, missing him was dark gray all along, forgetting him was like trying to know someone you've never met, but loving him was red. – Taylor Swift_

* * *

No more than two days into my solo job had I made the heartbreaking discovery that Maxon had been planning for his death all along. Maybe it was just so I wouldn't be lost in the unfortunate event of his death but he had laid everything out in all of his folders and files and books, with little notes to me of who to talk to about what and which books would be best to consult with.

He made a complete list of the advisers with mini biographies and pictures and descriptions of their jobs. Finances were organized into neat spreadsheets and columns, bills were kept in a filing cabinet in alphabetical order by the second word of the bill, provinces were also alphabetized in a filing cabinet with all of the drama of who is fighting with who and who is not radicalizing a bill up to date and kept so by a specific adviser. The only thing that he had felt to not leave anything for me was advice on the rebels and the war in New Asia.

I had saved the war to deal with last because my heart just wasn't ready to cope with that yet but with the hope that I'd have shortcuts left for me by my husband prompted me to open the folder late one night while lying in bed. The only note inside the folder said _I have all the faith in the world in you and that you'll make the right call with how to handle this war._ I rolled my eyes. "Real helpful." I mumbled under my breath.

The next day I was rummaging through the rest of the drawer filled with war content in his desk and came across a false bottom. Looking around to make sure no one else was in the room, including maids, I opened it and found a folder with big letters written on the front: _Open when you're ready. If you have any questions, Officer Carter has the answers._ I flipped it open and started reading through the papers.

* * *

_Benxi, New Asia_

_Prince Maxon, _

_I'm glad to hear of your desire to overturn your father. We would be glad to help. But it will come at a cost._

* * *

_Angeles, Illéa_

_Emperor Chein,_

_You think that I didn't know it would come at a cost? Allow me to name it myself: I'll hand over my life as long as you make good on the promise to rid Illéa of my father._

* * *

_Benxi, New Asia_

_Prince Maxon, _

_You drive a hard bargain, Your Majesty. What about your pretty wife?_

* * *

_Angeles, Illéa_

_Emperor Chein,_

_America is left alone, as well as Princess Elizabeth. She is a competent ruler and she'll learn to work with all of you in due time. I will leave her with instructions to consult my partner in this and they'll strike a secret alliance with you._

* * *

_Benxi, New Asia_

_Prince Maxon, _

_Secret alliances are a direct violation of the UN and NATO but then again, war is a violation of morale. I cannot wait to finally meet you in person, Prince Maxon._

* * *

_Angeles, Illéa_

_Emperor Chein,_

_Of course sir. I'll see in you in a few months._

* * *

There had to hundreds of emails between Maxon and the emperor of New Asia, talking about secret deals, bargains, and alliances. None of it made any sense. When Maxon said that there was more or less a plan in place to overthrow his father, was this what he was talking about? But, his father wasn't in control anymore. Granted, he hounded me every day about letting him help me rule but he was nowhere near being king.

Shoving the chair back roughly, I made a beeline for the stables. The groomsmen looked at me with strange glances as they bowed, confused of why I was there. I never went to the stables; that was Maxon's area. I found Carter mucking out one of the last stalls in the long line of wooden cubicles.

"Carter, do you have a minute we could talk?" I asked as he bowed to me.

He looked at me with wide eyes. "Your Majesty, Carter is not my name."

I smiled. "We're not going to hurt you, Carter. Not when you have a son to take care of and certainly not when you've done nothing wrong." He opened his mouth to argue but I quickly cut him off. "You were just as surprised by Marlee being a rebel as the rest of us. That was years ago anyway. I actually need to talk to you about something concerning my husband. Something that the two of you were planning for quite some time."

He set the rake down and nodded. "We'll need to talk somewhere private."

Back in Maxon's study, I pushed the folder full of emails and letters toward him across the desk. He didn't even need to open it to know what was inside. "What would you like to know?"

"How long was he planning on dying?"

He sighed. "He wasn't planning on dying. He was just exchanging his freedom for the country's."

"Excuse me?" I asked. "So you're saying he's still alive?"

He shrugged. "He told me that he was leaving his fate up to them. He could very well be alive. He could also very well be dead."

"So, if I tell you that I've been hearing someone creeping around me room at night and that I found his wedding band in bed with me one night…" my voice drifted off, my hand unknowingly reaching up to play with the ring.

"He asked me to keep an eye on you. It's been me. He gave me his ring before he left."

I took a deep breath and looked at the folder. "So, what's the plan for his father?"

"They're waiting for you to make that call. They said that they could just nuke the palace but we were quick to put that idea to rest." Carter smiled crookedly.

"Thank you." I shook my head. "Do you have any idea what his plan was for when he got into New Asia?"

"Negative, Your Majesty. That was all highly confidential."

I sat in silence for a few minutes before saying, "Thank you Carter. If I have any more questions I'll be sure to call on you. You may go back to work."

He bowed and left the room quickly. I looked over at his picture that I had moved from my study to his study where I had decided to do all of my work from. My picture was also sitting on the desk, a picture of me from when I was pregnant with Libby and someone had taken a picture of Maxon and me hugging in the garden. "Maxon, what else have you left me here to deal with?"

**So that seemed like a good place to stop. Your reviews are cracking me up, by the way. Some of them are absolutely hilarious because I understand that you guys are writing what you're thinking and it just doesn't translate the same way without hearing you actually say it! Anyway, keep them coming. You guys really are motivating me. Thanks so much!**

**P.S. I'm not really a Taylor Swift fan but I just started listening to Red and that's what I've been listening to while I'm writing; it's such a good album!**


	26. Chapter 26

_Clear eyes, full heart, can't lose. – Friday Night Lights_

* * *

"Libby, you have to sleep in your own bed tonight." I said, putting my hands on my hips and staring her down.

She crossed her arms and pouted. "No. I don't like my bed. I like _your _bed."

I sighed. "What is so great about my bed?"

"It's where Daddy used to sleep." She whispered. That stung. I couldn't deny her that because it was exactly my reasoning for why I wanted to keep sleeping in our bed. But she hadn't slept in her own bed since the night of the funeral, five weeks before.

"Libbert, you can't sleep in our bed forever. How would you feel if I came and slept in your bed every night?" I asked her, trying to be psychological.

But four-year-olds aren't psychological. "Mommy, you wouldn't fit." She said it with a tone that let me know that she thought I was being dumb.

"Please, Libby, I have work to do and I don't want to keep you up." I finally told her honestly.

"Mommy, you're grasping." She said patiently. Maybe psychology worked too well on her.

_Oh my beautiful, sweet daughter. Why do you have to be so smart?_ I thought. "How about, you sleep in here tonight and I'll take you shopping tomorrow for new dresses?" I proposed.

Her eyes lit up. "Really Mommy? We haven't gone in forever!"

I nodded. "Yep, and if you're not in bed in ten seconds we won't go."

She ran to her bed and tucked herself in. I sat on the edge and kissed her silky forehead, sweeping hair back from her face. "Good night, honey." I whispered. "I love you."

"Luboo too Mommy." She mumbled, her eyes already shut and drifting off to sleep.

I poked my head into the nanny's room to say that she was asleep and switched the light off in her room. I walked back to my room and changed into shorts and took Maxon's old night shirt and slid it over my head.

In the quiet of night was when I missed him the most. Getting ready for bed was our time together, to be ourselves with each other. Even after three years, that time with him never got old. I didn't realize how much it meant to me until he wasn't there with me anymore and the room was silent while I changed and completed my evening toilette.

I sat up doing work for a couple hours, getting up to stoke the fire twice. Finally my eyes just couldn't stay open so I closed up all of my folders and books and set them on the nightstand by the bed. I snuffed out the lamps by the bed and burrowed down into the covers.

Sometime as I was sleeping, I heard someone curse loudly. "Ow, damn!" a man's voice said from close by. My eyes flew open as I sat up quickly, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness engulfing the room.

"Hello?" I asked, only making out a silhouette. "Aspen, Carter?" I tried, them being the only two men I could think of that would be in my room this late at night.

"Serves me right to have been creeping around this long without telling you." Whoever it was talking was clearly in pain. I knew that voice…but there was no way.

"Maxon?" I whispered, my voice barely loud enough for me to hear.

The man stepped into the shaft of moonlight shining through the windows and he smiled grimly. His face was gaunt and shallow but it was a face I knew better than my own. "Oh my gosh…" I breathed, barreling out of bed and straight into his arms. _It may be a dream but it's a dream I want and need!_ I thought as I felt his arms wrap around me.

"Ames," he breathed into my hair. "Ames, I've missed you so much. I can't tell you how long I've waited for this moment."

"Nineteen weeks and three days." I sighed, taking a hand and kissing the back of it. I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down on to the bed over me. We kissed passionately for several minutes before I finally started to notice the details of his body. I could feel his ribs through my shirt and his shirt, his cheekbones were standing out, the bones in his hands and wrists clearly identifiable. "Maxon, you don't look so good."

He flipped me over so we were lying on our sides. He stroked a hand lazily over my hip as I traced a long laceration on his shoulder. "Ames, you don't look much better." He looked into my eyes. "Is this a gray hair?" he suddenly exclaimed, tugging on a hair.

I rolled my eyes. Same old Maxon, deflecting the attention. "You need to eat something." I ran my hands over his body, doing a physical examination. Then stopped when they reached his hips and I could feel his hip bones. My eyes snapped up to meet his.

"I'm fine, really. Carter has been taking care of me." He waved it off.

"Carter has known this whole time?" I squealed. "But…I have regular meetings with him where he tells me that he knows nothing of your plans…"

"Doesn't mean that he doesn't know I'm here." He laid his head back on a pillow. "I'm so tired. I've missed this bed."

I looked down at our hands, now locked together. "Maxon, I thought you were dead."

He nodded. "And from the looks of it, you tried to get yourself as close that point as possible." His voice was filled with worry but I was confused. That was the second time in five minutes that he'd insulted my appearance.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, letting some aggravation leak into my voice.

He pulled me up and led me to the bathroom and stood and studied my reflection with me. With great difficulty, I pulled my eyes away from his reflection to mine and was instantly met with surprise. He wasn't kidding. I looked no better than him. There were worry lines around my eyes which seemed to hold endless sadness in them. My face was pale and dull-looking. My hair lacked its normal shine as well. You could see the bones in my shoulders and chest. "Oh," was all I could say.

Turning away from our reflections, I hugged him tight to me, feeling his strong arms wrap around my back. "Where's Libby?" he asked. "I want to see her."

"She's asleep." I paused. "Maxon, her mind is like a tape recorder and I'm guessing that you don't really want people to know that you're here so I don't think that her knowing you're here is a good idea."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, I suppose you're right." I stroked the back of his head, tangling my fingers into his longer hair. "I love you."

I nodded. "I know."

"What happened to standing on your own two feet if I was ever gone?" he asked, guiding me back to our bed.

I shrugged. "The country came first." I simply told him, knowing that he couldn't argue with that. "I have something that belongs to you."

He took his wedding band from my fingers and smiled. "I gave this to you hoping that it would get you back on track."

"It did. But your letter was the catalyst."

He laughed and rolled me over to kiss my neck. "What's the plan now?"

"Now I have to go to Plan B because you're not supposed to know I'm here."

"What's Plan B?" I asked as his lips made their way down my stomach.

"To make love to you every night." He promised, pulling away to look in my eyes. And I smiled, knowing that he would make good on that promise just like every other promise he'd ever made.

**Just because I love you guys so much I'm updating twice in one day! I know, I know, you guys hated this chapter. You probably don't want to read the rest of the book because it was just so dreadful…lol. JK. Please review!**


	27. Chapter 27

_If you ever feel like giving up, remember that there's a little girl watching who wants to be just like you. Don't disappoint her._

* * *

I woke up and stretched my arms over my head, sighing and smiling at the sight of my husband lying in bed next to me. I rolled to lie partially on his chest and stroked a finger down over his heart and then traced the scar on his shoulder that he still hadn't explained to me. "Wake up, my lover." I whispered, kissing his face.

He moaned and squinted in the morning light. "Good morning." He whispered, running a hand over his face. "How are you not tired? You work from sun-up to well after sun-down. I'm not sure this schedule of coming back and working an extra three hours with me is a good idea."

"Hmm." I mused, propped an arm up on the pillow behind his head. "How much longer do we have to hide? It's been two weeks."

"I told you," he said patiently, "timing is everything in this. As much as I'd love to come back from the dead and be reunited with our daughter and my mother, we need to wait to have my father in the right position to take him off guard."

I sighed. "He's practically hanging over my shoulder all day. I think that's good enough."

He laughed and sat up to go to the bathroom, not saying anything else. There was a knock on the door and I answered, opting to order breakfast to eat in our room. There was a lot of speculation within the palace concerning my recent habit of taking breakfast and some dinners in my room. Some said that I was working really hard; others said that I was having an affair with a guard. The latter was the worst of the two rumors. There were also some who assumed that I was pregnant because I was ordering a lot of food so there'd be enough for Maxon to eat too. But obviously I couldn't tell the cooks that.

I heard the water for the shower turn on and figured I better go join him in case a maid came in and wondered why the shower was running but I wasn't in it. Quickly stripping my clothes off I joined him in the burning hot water. Something that clearly showed the differences in our upbringing was how we preferred the temperature of the water when we were taking showers or baths or just washing our hands.

Maxon preferred to have the water be scorching hot; so hot that your skin is red when you get out of the shower. I kept my shower water at a lukewarm temperature, something that really bothered him the first couple times we'd showered together.

"_This water is so cold!" he exclaimed, reaching past me to get his shampoo. _

_I laughed. "Just because I don't want to waste all of the hot water on a shower worthy of a hot spring doesn't mean you can make fun of me."_

"_Waste the hot water?" he repeated, frowning at me. "You're kidding, right?"_

_I frowned too. "You don't have a limit?"_

_He shook his head slowly, laughing quietly. "Do you not understand how huge this place is and how much hot water you'd have to use before you started to run out? I'm not even sure it's possible."_

_I blushed, embarrassed. "Oh. It was always such a big deal at my house…" My voice trailed off._

_He hugged me tight, as tight as possible with my distended belly. "Well, there are no worries here." He kissed my forehead before releasing me to wash the rest of the soap out of his hair._

Now, three years later, I still hadn't gotten into the habit of showering in completely hot water. I joined Maxon and wrapped my arms around the front of his torso, kissing the back of his shoulders. "Happy birthday." He whispered to me.

I laughed. "I was hoping you wouldn't say anything."

"Well, my goal when I left was to be home in time to celebrate it with you. Twenty-one is a big number."

"Only to you, is it a big deal." I reminded him. "Happy anniversary."

He frowned and laughed at the same time. "Ames, our anniversary was months ago."

"I know. But you weren't home to celebrate it with me." He suddenly turned around and pinned me to the cool tile wall and kissed me.

"I can make it up to you." He growled, his voice tickling the wet skin of my neck.

"Max, just by being alive you're making it up to me."

He smiled and pulled away to get my soap and wash my hair. He was diligent in getting all of the soap out before he let me wash his hair for him. By the time we were dried off and wrapped in our warm robes breakfast had arrived and was waiting for us on the bed.

I was in a good mood when it came time for me to go down to my office. It was difficult to maintain a stoic air some days. I had to act the same way I'd been acting because whistling down the hallway may be a bit too cheerful for someone who had lost their husband such a short time beforehand. Carter was already in my office though when I shut the door, dropping my heavy load of folders onto the desk.

"Happy birthday, Your Majesty." He bowed.

I waved him off but smiled anyway. "Thank you. I'm guessing my husband told you to wish me a happy birthday."

"He told me all of the important dates to know." He smiled. My eyes flashed up to meet his and I remembered suddenly that I had yet to mention that I knew Maxon was back.

"Carter, I'm sure you've been wondering where Maxon is lately."

"Well, of course, we would love to retrieve his body but…"

I was shaking my head. "No. I meant that you've probably been wondering why he hasn't been staying with you and who else he's been spending his nights with."

He smiled and nodded. "I told him to be more careful and that sneaking around your room at all hours of the night was risky. But I'm glad you two are reunited."

"Thank you, me too." I smiled to myself before shaking my head and nodding to Carter. "Do you have those documents I asked for?"

He handed over the folder I'd left with him. "Carter, I was thinking that I could maybe pay you extra for this work you've been doing. I mean, you are working extremely hard in addition to your responsibilities in the stables as well as with your son."

He stood up to leave. "Do not worry yourself Your Majesty. Think of my taking care of Maxon as your payment."

I sighed. "Very well. You may go." I dismissed him, letting the subject drop because I'd already snuck in an extra hundred dollars in his last two pay checks and would keep doing so. I worked hard throughout the day, eating lunch in my office and allotting myself an hour in the afternoon to play with Libby. I still owed her a shopping trip, something she had not let me forget so easily.

It was well after ten o'clock before I finally made it into my bedroom. When I did, I shut the door tight behind me and slumped against it, feeling completely overwhelmed. I'd sat through a four-hour meeting with the war advisers and we were no closer to finding a solution to the rebels than we were to solving the national debt.

Maxon appeared and took my folders from my arms and carried them to the desk in the corner. "I was thinking, maybe you're right. We've waited long enough. How about tomorrow, we make our move on my father?" I was slightly taken aback but nonetheless, I nodded. "Do you remember what you have to do?"

"Yes. You remember your job?" I checked because no one ever doubted him and I liked to just for fun.

He smiled and hugged me. "Of course."

**So what are they going to do to his dad? You'll just have to wait and see. My goal is to finish this book by the time my family goes on vacation in August. I'll have to decide what I'm doing with the sequel after that. But we still have a long way to go in this story so don't get too upset about it ending yet! Please review!**


	28. Chapter 28

_You're gonna win, or you're gonna lose…either way the sun's gonna come up the next morning. – Friday Night Lights_

* * *

"Your Majesty, I have the proof you had asked me for." The king said from behind me. Queen Amberly was walking with me, holding Libby's hand. "Darling, I'm sorry but this is important business between America and I."

Queen Amberly lifted her chin confidently. "It is Queen America to you and any business of yours is safe with me."

He sighed. "Okay. Well, you see, I searched the old texts from Gregory and I found the old law on regency. Let me read it to you." He prompted. I met Queen Amberly's eyes and I could see how hard she was trying to be patient. "It says:_ In the unfortunate and unanticipated event that the king dies or is otherwise unable to rule and the male heir is not of age, the previous king should rule as regent on the right of the queen._ Right here, you can look if you want." He practically shoved the book under my nose.

I recognized it completely. I referenced the book frequently. Maxon had made me all but memorize it. Of course, he told me that I would use it so much that eventually everything would stick. Including the amendments. "I am well aware of the chapter on regency." I told the king.

"Then you must admit that it is incontrovertible; I shall be the Regent." He puffed out his chest slightly and I suppressed the urge to laugh.

I smiled sweetly. "I know that your knowledge of the old texts is extremely versed, but sir, there was an amendment made to that law not too long ago. I believe it was passed by your son."

"Maxon?" he asked, as if he needed clarification. "But I was not aware…" he stopped speaking, his voice more than incredulous.

"Yes, he was quite adamant on getting this law passed before leaving for New Asia. It is in the Book of New Law. I would read it to you, but I do not have the book on me." I spread my hands as if I was at a loss.

He nodded. "Then we shall go find the book and look it up." He turned and started to walk back down the hallway but then stopped dead in his tracks when Maxon stepped out from the secret passage and intercepted him.

"America, if you would allow me," he said, his eyes locking on me as he opened the Book of New Law to the marked page where the amendment could be found. "In the unfortunate and unanticipated event that the king dies or is otherwise unable to rule and the male heir is not of age, the queen shall rule with absolute power and forego the previous law stating that the king would serve as her regent." He stopped and looked at his father with a cocky smile. "Of course, that's all depending on a king that is dead or 'otherwise unable to rule' and I am quite alive. I was never really dead in the first place though, was I father?"

King Clarkson was at an absolute loss for words. "I received the message and it clearly said…" he never finished because Maxon cut him off in a firm voice.

"It clearly said that I was Missing In Action and most presumably taken by rebels of New Asia. Little do you know, however, that I made a deal with New Asia long ago that when you were out of power completely, the war would end." He sighed. "You're caught. This was all a trap. I planned it from the beginning. Now you are to be tried for treason and tyranny – with me overseeing the trial as First Judge – and will be immediately removed from the palace grounds."

"How dare you!" the king shouted at Maxon.

My husband flinched slightly, a miniscule amount of fear showing but he quickly pushed it away and retorted, "I'm sorry I am such a disappointment to you. Sorry I'm not dead, like you were hoping and probably planning to happen eventually. Sorry I'm not the spineless, cowardice son you were hoping for. You've bullied me my whole life and I've sat by and let you do it for far too long. That's enough. I've watched you treat America disrespectfully and I can't believe I let it go on for so long but I'm done. You ever touch me, my wife, or my children and I will send you away from this country and send you to New Asia in a nice gift wrapper. They can sort you out." He spat.

King Clarkson was fuming. He looked to Queen Amberly for reassurance but her expression was just as stony as her son's. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"Yes." She sighed. "Here's what I have to say: I cannot believe that after all we went through just to have one child, and to let it be a male heir, you have abused him like you have. I made a promise to you long ago to always love you but today…I'm not sure I can keep that promise." She was choked up at the end. She put a hand over her mouth and walked away abruptly.

Guards stepped up to King Clarkson and handcuffed him. One apologized to him but Maxon sent him a cutting look and the guard immediately bowed his head. As King Clarkson was led away, he was yelling expletives to Maxon and I, cursing us and our children and the country. Maxon stood tall with a stiff jaw and shoulders squared.

He still looked unhealthy and had not gained back the weight he'd lost in New Asia but once he started eating with me he started to gain some of it back. We walked to find Queen Amberly in the Women's Room. Without even asking if he was allowed in, Maxon went to comfort his mother. "Mom, it's okay. I'm so sorry." He said, crouching down next to her and rubbing a hand over her back.

She cried and hugged him tight, the way only a mother could hug her children. Libby was with me and noticed her father. "Daddy!" she squealed, running up to meet him. He took one arm away from his mother and looped it around Libby and lifted her onto his lap. "Daddy, Mommy said that you had gone to be with Arthur. Did you bring him with you?"

My eyes flicked up to meet his; both reflecting each other's pain. I shrugged. Had I known that he was alive I would have given her a very different reason. Maxon sighed and looked at her with sad eyes. "Arthur is happy where he is. He loves us all very much but he thinks we're better off here without him."

"C'mon, let's get you ready for dinner." I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. I recognized that Maxon needed this time with his mother to sort through their emotions.

Maxon came late to dinner, kissing me on the forehead. "Mother is not joining us tonight. She said that she wanted to have dinner in her room." He explained as he sat and put his napkin in his lap. A butler set the food down in front of him and he quickly started to eat.

"Maxon." I spoke gently, looking at him from across the table. "I'm proud of you."

He smiled and set down his fork to hold my hand across the table. Libby started clapping and laughing and making kissey faces at us. A butler nearby tapped his champagne glass with a butter knife in the universal sign for a kiss. We kissed briefly on the lips and then settled back into our chairs.

We gazed at each other across from the table with lingering smiles on our faces and later that night we slept with our daughter's warm body between us, the very example of our love for each other.

**So the next chapter will skip ahead a couple years to when America is 23, Maxon is 25, and Libby is 5. I'll probably have it posted in a couple days. This is kind of the conclusion of Part II, starting from when Libby was 3. There will probably only be 3-4 parts, just to give y'all a scope of how the book will pan out. Please review!**


	29. Chapter 29

_There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up. – Oscar Wilde_

* * *

"How about a drink, King Maxon?" Prince Terceró asked, walking over to the liquor cabinet. He helped himself to some brandy.

"I'm fine with my scotch, thank you." Maxon politely declined. He looked over at me and then turned his attention to the young Italian prince. "So what is the purpose of this sudden meeting? You don't seem to be as urgent now as you were when I spoke with you a few days ago."

He laughed and stood by the windows, looking out at the courtyard. "As you know, the French and United Kingdom are threatening our country. They've threatened to bring in their armies along with Swendway's army to attack us and obliterate us. We were hoping that as our allies, Illéa would provide some aid against them."

Maxon narrowed his eyes as I raised my eyebrows at him. Princess Vanessa sat quietly but looked at me with an intent stare. "Give me one reason why I should spare my army to fight against my country's best allies."

"Because we are also allies." Terceró defended.

Shaking his head, Maxon stood and set down his glass. "With all due respect, sir, that just gives me a reason to stay out of this battle. By picking your side, Illéa loses three, possibly four, great allies and by picking their side I lose your country."

"I think you have more to lose by not choosing to fight with us." The young Italian prince said.

"How do you mean?" I asked, eyeing him curiously.

He looked at both of us seriously as Maxon took a slightly protective stance in front of me. "We will destroy your country if you side against us or refuse to help us. Our armies will start a sweep in the East and work our way here, to Angeles, where we will take hold of the palace and kill all of you."

Maxon took a couple steps toward him. "Here's what I propose: you leave now. I will think about it and you'll know what my decision is in due time but remember this: you've now threatened my country and my family and for that alone I would send in a nuclear bomb and wipe your country off the map. May I remind you, we have a military arsenal here in Illéa far more powerful than yours after it was depleted in the Third World War. However, I will remain objective on this matter and I will try to make my decision in that fashion but I cannot and will not make any promises to you that I don't know I will keep."

Terceró drew himself up to his full height and lifted his chin, towering above Maxon. "You do that King Maxon. And I will remember that tidbit about your military but the rumor mill has been whispering about the deficit your military budget has been in since the end of the war in New Asia. I don't recommend giving me an opportunity to call your bluff." He turned on his heel and motioned for his wife to stand. She dutifully exited the room by his side.

When the doors were closed I turned to Maxon who ran a hand down his face and refused to face me. "We'll talk about this later tonight. I have work to do." He said abruptly.

I nodded and dismissed myself. Using the side door of Maxon's study, I walked straight into mine and sat at my desk across from Queen Amberly. "How are you today, Amberly?" I asked politely as I sat down, assessing the papers scattered over my desk.

She smiled and nodded cordially. "Quite well, thank you."

"I trust you had a pleasant trip."

"A long respite with my family was much needed. Thank you for suggesting it. I've been awfully lonely here without Clarkson." She paused. "Not that I think he didn't get what he deserved."

I nodded and looked up at Silvia who had just entered. "Your Majesty." She bowed, handing me a folder. "These are the menu and entertainment outlines that you asked for Princess Elizabeth's birthday party."

"Thank you." I took the folder and put it to the side, my eyes lingering on a picture of Libby sitting on my desk. "Five years. Where did the time go?"

Amberly beamed. "Soon enough she'll be having her own Selection."

"Don't remind me!" I laughed. "Thirty-five women is bad enough, but thirty-five men?" We all were giggling and eventually I looked up at Silvia and nodded to her. "You may go Silvia." She bobbed again and then walked out.

We sat in quiet contemplation for several moments before Amberly asked, "How was your meeting with the Italians?"

I snorted. "A disaster. They're expecting us to side with them in their war against Britain and France. As if they think that we want to be involved in another war. It doesn't appeal to us at all and the war advisers would have a field day if we told them we wanted to send troops to Italy."

"So what does Maxon want to do?"

"What does he want to do? I can tell you that he wants to slit all of their throats more than anything." I felt a small swell of pride in me at the mental image that conjured. "We're going to discuss it later. He just needed to cool down before he could look at it logically."

She smiled in understanding and then rose to excuse herself. "Do you mind if I go visit my granddaughter?"

"Not at all." I approved, letting her go.

That night Maxon came to bed late. I was already changed and tucked in, reading a book. "You okay?" I asked him when he laid down next to me.

He groaned into the comforter and rose up on his elbows to look at me. "I was until I found out that my family wanted to have a little get-together soon."

I frowned. "Your family, as in…?"

"As in my aunts, uncles, cousins…all of them. They want to go to a ballet production in the city for the night. An adult night." He feigned excitement.

I laughed and rubbed his shoulder. "I think it sounds like fun." He peered at me sideways, giving me an incredulous look. "No, listen: we haven't seen most of your family since the wedding and coronation and let's face it, we need some time off."

He sighed and softened his gaze. "You know I can't argue with you. But do we have to go to a ballet?"

"As king you have to show your appreciation for your country's arts and remember, ballets are the norm for me with my background."

He nodded. "I know, I know."

"Good boy." I patted his head playfully, forcing him to roll his eyes. "Now go get ready for bed. Go on."

Giving me a quick peck on the lips, he stood and walked to the bathroom, leaving me in our bed.

**Kind of a weird chapter, I know. It's really just a filler. **

**Fasistaanime: Muchas gracias para leyendo mi libro! Espero que te gustas! Estoy contento tu practicas ingles con mi libro y si tienes preguntas yo puedo ayudar. I también espero que mi español es bien; has tenido cinco años de español en la escuela. Si tengo algo mal, digame por favor!**

**Anyways…thanks for the reviews y'all! Can I break 200 with this chapter? Do it! Review!**


	30. Chapter 30

_Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you're not._

* * *

Maxon handed me a my glass of wine and sat down in the cushy seat next to me. "I have to say…I think I'll enjoy the show a lot more from this view instead of in the pit." I commented, not taking my gaze off of the musicians warming up.

He smiled and followed my gaze. "Did you ever get to play for ballets like this?"

"Only once. It was a ballet named Piquita and it was beautiful. It was in the Capitol Theatre in Carolina."

He frowned. "I remember that ballet. Chelsea Crosse was the principal, correct?"

I laughed. "For not liking ballets you certainly seem to know a lot about them." I was referring to earlier in the night when he was telling me all about this particular ballet.

He opened his mouth to say something else when the door to the box opened and Maxon's Aunt Jacqueline led in a man in an expensive suit with a pleasant smile on his face. His brown hair was coiffed and it looked like he had mascara on his eyelashes.

"Maxon, this is Kyoto Melling, the artistic director and co-owner of the Angeles Ballet Company." She introduced, waving a hand toward the man.

He bowed gracefully. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesties. I hope you enjoy the program this evening. When I heard you would be coming I immediately ordered the first cast to perform. The second cast was scheduled but I wanted to put the best our program has to offer on stage for you."

I smiled to him and allowed him to kiss the back of my hand. "Oh, Mr. Melling, I am a huge fan of your company and the work you do here. I'm sure that the second cast would be just as beautiful to watch as the first cast."

"Nonetheless, I must be getting downstairs to talk to some of my dancers. This evening, our principal is Beckanne Doe and she is absolutely exquisite. She is only twenty-years-old but her talent surpasses anything I've seen in the last ten years of working here."

"Well we'll look forward to watching her." Maxon said in a dismissive tone, effectively ending the conversation.

"That man is a legend among the Fives." I whispered to him. "He started as a Five, dancing on the streets and someone discovered him and put him on stage, now he's the director of the best ballet company in the country."

He flipped through the rest of the program, closing it when the lights in the theatre were dimmed. One of Maxon's cousins slid into the seat on the other side of me. I still didn't know all of his family but name; I asked him for a detailed family tree for Christmas every year. From the side, I guessed it was Jacqueline's daughter, Maria.

The ballet was a tribute to an old pop artist from the United States named Lady Gaga. The music was all transposed to be orchestra pieces and it was quite impressive and unlike any ballet I'd ever seen. Of course, I'd never seen the Angeles Ballet Company before.

Shortly after intermission, a guard came and whispered something in Maxon's ear. He politely excused himself and stepped out into the hallway. He was gone for several minutes and then came back. He leaned over to me. "Silvia just called. Libby is apparently sick and she requested that one of us is home before." His voice was barely a whisper.

"What kind of sick?" I asked, my heart seizing in fear.

"She just said throwing up, nothing too bad. She doesn't have a fever but she's never thrown up so she's kind of freaking out." He paused. "I'll go, you enjoy the rest of the night."

"Maxon, surely you know me better than to think that I can just sit here in peace while our daughter is sick. I'll go and you can stay." I was already standing up but he stood too.

Sighing, he said, "We can both go."

I nodded and allowed him to slip my coat on and then stepped out in the hallway while he told his family where we were going and to thank them for the night. We made it back to the palace quickly, the theatre only being twenty minutes away.

Libby was in bed and started crying when she saw us walk through the door. "She has been getting sick pretty regularly, about every twenty minutes." The nanny informed us as I sat down on the edge of the bed and swept a hand over Libby's forehead.

Maxon sat on the other side and had a brief, whispered conversation with his mother that ended with her leaving the room with Silvia. "Mommy, this is gross." Libby sobbed.

I laughed and met Maxon's gaze. "Yes, well, it happens."

He went to get changed into more comfortable clothes as she frowned. "Can I just sleep in the bathroom, Mommy?"

I nodded. "Sure." I carried her into the bathroom and when Maxon came back he stood in the doorway before going to get her pillows and some blankets. I situated her bedding on the floor as a makeshift bed. With Maxon talking to her, I went and changed into my pajamas and then rejoined them.

He and I sat in the bathroom for most of the night with her. The sky was starting to lighten and it had been a few hours since she had last gotten sick when we finally moved her back to her bed and then went to our bed. "Hopefully it was just a twelve-hour bug." He mumbled as we slid underneath the covers.

"At least she never got a fever." I pointed out.

He nodded and folded me in his arms. "Sorry we missed the rest of the ballet."

"Please, you are hardly upset about that."

He laughed but shrugged. "I don't know. I was kind of enjoying the break from the craziness of work." He admitted.

I smiled at him, stroking his face. "Maxon." I whispered as he started to drift off. "I know that everything is kind of crazy but I was thinking, maybe now isn't a bad time to try to have another baby."

He lifted his head up to look at me seriously. "Are you sure? We haven't tried since Arthur…"

"Well, with Libby pretty low-maintenance right now, I think I could manage."

"_We _could manage." He corrected. "Even though I'm king now and not prince like I was with Libby, I would still try my damnedest to be involved with this child's life."

I sighed and kissed the tip of his nose. "Thank you." I whispered.

**Okay, fun starts again next chapter. Sorry for the delay but the internet in my house was acting weird and I couldn't get on yesterday. Please review!**


	31. Chapter 31

_When you've done everything you can do, God will step in and do everything you can't do. _

_2 Corinthians12: 10_

* * *

Maxon walked around to the side of the bed and wiped away Libby's hair from her face. "Libby, c'mon. You have to sleep in your own bed tonight." She had been sleeping with us for a week after she'd been sick as if by sleeping with us would prevent her from getting sick again.

She groaned sleepily as he smiled and lifted her into his arms. I walked in front of them to open the doors to get to her room. As he walked in I turned around and looked at them. My eyes almost bugged out of my head in horror. "Maxon, what's on her back?"

He frowned and laid her down on her stomach, lifting up her shirt. Bruises…purple bruises lining her spine from her neck to the small of her back. "I'm going to kill him."

"Who?" I asked, sitting down next to her. I brushed my fingers lightly over them. "Maxon, your father didn't do this. These weren't there this morning when I got her changed and your father hasn't been here at the palace in months."

"You're sure they weren't there earlier? These look like they're days old." He questioned. "They're more like…like lumps." He swallowed.

I shook my head at him. "We're not getting worried yet, okay? It could be nothing. Maybe she fell on some of her toys and she didn't tell us."

She stirred, forcing Maxon to lower his voice. "Oh, yeah, she wouldn't have cried about it at all." He paused. "America, we have to call the doctor."

Sighing, I nodded. "But we're not worried. We're just being careful."

"Exactly." He patted my shoulder as he walked out.

The doctor arrived within ten minutes of us calling for him, understanding that at this time of night, getting a call from the king and queen meant something serious was happening. Dr. Macky sat down next to Libby and rubbed his fingers over her back. I was amazed she hadn't woken up yet. As soon as I had the thought she started to stir. "Princess Elizabeth, please stay still." He told her in a quiet voice.

Maxon stood close by with his arms crossed. I joined him, wrapping my arms around him and resting my head on his arm. "Has she had any nose bleeds lately?"

"Nose bleeds?" I repeated. "No, she's never had anything close to that."

He nodded and pulled out his stethoscope. "I know that she supposedly had the stomach bug. Was the vomit normal?"

Maxon frowned. "What do you mean by normal?"

"Any blood or other abnormal discharge?"

My breathing hitched. "There was a little blood the last couple times she got sick but I figured with as much as she was getting sick and with how little was in her stomach it was nothing to worry about."

"And it isn't…except that now you have this bruising on her back." He laid a hand against her cheek. "And a slight fever."

"What?" Maxon exclaimed. "I just held her, she didn't feel warm at all!"

Dr. Macky sighed. "I think we should take her down to the hospital. I want to run some blood tests as well as some others that I can't do here." He put away some of his equipment as Maxon and I stood frozen in the spot.

With a deep breath, Maxon went to grab Libby and fold her in his arms. "America, can you get her blankie and stuffed animals?" She stirred at the sudden movement around her. "It'll be okay, Princess." He whispered to her.

"Daddy, what's going on?" she asked quietly.

"You're okay. We're just moving you to a different bed."

When we got to the hospital, Dr. Macky alerted a few nurses to help him. They gave Libby an IV and some sedative. He took five vials of blood from her and ran an MRI. When she was done he came out to talk to us. "I would like to keep her down here to keep a close eye on her. I'll alert you both in the morning if I find anything."

"What are you expecting to find?"

He took several moments to answer. "I'm not going to tell you. Not to be disrespectful, but to be cautious. At this point it could be anything and I don't want to worry you unnecessarily and I always don't want to assure you that it's nothing."

"So it could be bad?" I could tell Maxon was starting to get really frustrated.

"I don't know at this point." Dr. Macky was being honest, I could tell. He also seemed to be struggling to maintain his composure. He had been the head doctor at the palace for almost twenty years. He delivered Libby, he was called upon to help Maxon the last time he'd been caned by his father…I trusted him wholly but I still was just as eager to know what was going on with my daughter as Maxon was.

I nudged Maxon's shoulder, making him face me. "It's going to be okay. We'll go get some sleep, come down first thing in the morning, and take it from there."

This seemed to appease Maxon and he relented, nodding slowly. "Thank you." He said, his voice hard.

That night, I was lying in bed trying not to think of my frightened daughter downstairs but it was all I could think about. Worst case scenario: a mysterious illness was tearing her up inside. Best case scenario…I couldn't think of one. Nothing positive could explain those bruises. In a matter of hours they appeared, how many more would she have in the morning when we go to see her?

"Are you asleep?" I whispered to my husband. He was lying on his side, facing away from me. He was still touching me but I couldn't see his face. I assumed he'd fall asleep after we made love because we both did frequently but tonight he was more held back and I knew that he just couldn't perform normally under the distressing circumstances. Trying to have a baby when there was something wrong with Libby may not be the wisest of things but I was hoping that by the time another child comes to fruition everything would be normal again.

"Yes." He breathed out faintly.

I sighed and rolled over, pressing my body tight against his. "Are you thinking about Libby?"

"She's my daughter; of course I'm thinking about her." He flipped over to face me. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

I shook my head, agreeing with him. "Me neither." He fell asleep again in a few minutes, leaving me alone to my thoughts. At least I was comforted by his arms around me.

The next morning, Dr. Macky called us into his office as soon as we walked into the hospital. Maxon and I sat across from his desk, holding hands between us. "Your Majesties, I don't know how to say this so I am just going to say it." He paused. "After doing numerous blood tests, we found that your daughter has acute lymphocytic leukemia, frequently shortened to ALL. This is a form of cancer, most commonly seen in children, where the blood cells in her body are not capable of maintaining care needed for her body and the tissue in her immune system gradually deteriorates."

Maxon and I sat quietly, both paralyzed by our fears. We had heard about leukemia a lot; it was prevalent in the United States before the third World War. As medical care declined, less cases were being diagnosed and therefore, the number of pediatric cancer patients dropped.

"Your daughter is strong but this is an acute case, meaning that the disease will spread quickly."

Maxon put the pieces together faster than me. I was still so shocked that I couldn't form one coherent thought but he was doing math in his head. "How long?"

"We don't have the same kind of treatment now as hospitals did in the United States. Without that treatment, she has a couple months. Maybe more." He answered grimly.

He shook his head. "What about with the treatment?" he demanded. "Surely there's a way to redevelop the treatment."

Dr. Macky nodded. "But it would cost probably millions of dollars…"

Maxon quickly cut him off. "We'll do it, no matter the cost."

"King Maxon, I think you misunderstood me. I meant that if we had the treatment readily available she'd have more time but even if you paid for it to be redeveloped, by the time it was finished and ready for use…I'm afraid it'd be too late."

Maxon bowed his head in defeat and looked over to me. Tears had started to spill out of my eyes. "What can we do?" I asked him in a quiet, almost childish voice.

"I know it is a bad thing to say, but you can make her comfortable. I'm afraid that her immune system will deteriorate quickly, in a matter of weeks. We can set up the medical equipment she'll need in her bedroom if that's what you prefer. You could be closer to her at all times then."

"It would be inconvenient for you though, to make the trips up to the master floor multiple times a day." Maxon pointed out.

Dr. Macky bowed his head and nodded. "But I've seen the way this illness has affected families firsthand. Trust me when I say that you'll want her close to you and that I can handle being far away."

We immediately set to work, the doctors and nurses taking large carts of equipment and supplies up to Libby's room. It was not nine o'clock yet and we were not to wake Queen Amberly or demand her presence until after then. Silvia snapped into attention within seconds, recognizing the severity of the situation. She helped me clear most of Libby's toys from her room and just kept her favorite inside, moving the other toys to a room nearby that would be easily accessible should Libby demand any of them.

Maxon carried her up to her room with a nurse rolling the IV drip behind them. He laid her down gently in her bed. I sat with her and hugged her tight. "I'm going down to my study for a bit." He announced, dismissing himself quickly.

Libby only woke up briefly, not alert enough for me to tell her what was going on. She just snuggled into me and fell asleep again within seconds. Time lost meaning until my stomach started growling loud enough to hear it. I looked up at the clock and was shocked that it was already ten o'clock at night. Maxon had been missing all day. What was more important?

I found Maxon in his office around midnight. He had a dozen books opened on his desk and he was totally engrossed in the book in front of him. "Maxon." I sighed, approaching him. He didn't look up at me. I stepped up behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, resting my chin against his neck. I noticed he was reading a medical book. "Oh, Maxon." I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

"We can help her, make her better." He insisted. His voice was hollow. "This happens every day, there has to be a cure." He started ripping through the pages of his book.

I shook my head and put my hand on his, stopping him. "Maxon, stop." I spoke gently. "We have more money than we really need but that still can't save her." Tears spilled out of my eyes. "What we need to do is love her and take care of her…for however long we have with her."

"She's our daughter and we're just going to let her die?" A few tears leaked out of his eyes too and I knew that if he was crying, the despair he felt was deeper than anything he'd experienced before. Maxon wasn't a crier.

"There's a reason for this happening." I assured him. "I'm equally heartbroken as you but we need to be strong for her."

He squeezed my hand and nodded. "We'll be strong for her." Then he started crying in earnest, and I held him as his tears soaked my dress and my shoulder.

**Well…I think a lot of you are hating me. I just, I wanted to put a storyline like this into the book to raise more awareness of pediatric cancer and Libby is totally, 100% my character; I can do anything I want with her. So, please review!**


	32. Chapter 32

_To love another person is to see the face of God. – Victor Hugo_

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"Mommy," Libby sat up in bed, "can I be a ballerina?"

I laughed. "It's never too late to start, right?" I asked her. Today was a good day. She had more energy and wasn't coughing as much. Her hair had a bit more shine to it but we finally washed it after a few days of her being too tired and sick to move from bed.

After I stood up, I held out a hand to her and let her stand up. She stretched tentatively and then nodded and smiled at me angelically. I led her to the wash stand next to the wall and placed my hand on the edge like it was a barre. She faced me and mimicked me.

"Okay, so stand like this, with your heels together but your toes sticking in different directions." I instructed, pointing to my feet. I didn't have the best turnout but it still worked. Libby got it right away. "You already have beautiful hands but let me show you the trick to ballet fingers. Tuck your thumb closer into your hands and keep your middle finger lower than your others. Just like that, see? You're a natural!"

Her proud smile lit up the room, her blonde hair framing her face like a halo. "Show me more, Mommy!"

I laughed. "Okay…oh! Remember to keep your knees straight!" I pointed to her knees. She immediately straightened her legs, looking at me with focus in her eyes, telling me she was ready. "Okay. Now, go up on your toes. This is called relevé. Remember those pretty fingers I showed you? Swoop your right arm out to the side and bring it up above your head, with your elbow slightly bent." She did it flawlessy. "That is so good!" I dropped down to my feet and clapped for her.

She smiled again. "More, more!" she demanded. Dr. Macky poked his head in the door and smiled at us. Libby frowned, knowing that we had to stop whenever he came in.

"Later." I promised even though I knew that she'd probably be too tired to do anything. She hardly ever had energy late in the day. She sat down on the bed with Dr. Macky and I politely excused myself. I made a few phone calls in my office before heading over to Maxon's study, creeping in when I noticed that he was also on the phone. General Anton was standing by Maxon's desk, holding a telegraph.

He bowed to me and gave me a kind smile. Upon my request, he handed me the telegraph so I could read it over. Maxon hung up the phone and ran his hands over his face, a habit he'd formed when he was frustrated with something. "Italy has backed off, after I told them what's going on with Libby. Hopefully that will keep them away long enough for us to develop a plan." He was speaking to General Anton more than he was talking to me.

"With all due respect, Sir, I don't think they were incredibly serious about their threat to overthrow us. If they were, they would've done it already."

"I know that but I'm not letting my guard down." He paused, looking over his notes briefly. "How far along are the new batch of guards in their training?"

General Anton thought for a few seconds. "Some will be finished this week, about ten. I've observed their sessions and I've decided that those ten are quite capable of being put into action early. We will have another forty filter in over the course of the next month."

Maxon nodded in approval. "Excellent. Thank you General Anton, you may go now." He stood to shake the general's hand and started pacing. I stole the spot in his chair behind the large desk.

"What are you going to do when you are old and crippled and need a little motorized scooter to get around? You won't be able to pace like that."

"I'm in no mood for jokes right now America. How's Libby?"

I shrugged. "She seemed to be having a good day. Dr. Macky is with her now and the medicine he gives her will make her drowsy as always so I don't think her good mood will stick around for long." I paused. "But I do have a surprise for her."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "And what is that?"

"She wants to be a ballerina so I called the ballet company in town and arranged for Beckanne Doe to come here this afternoon to hang out with Libby." I approached him and hugged him, needing to feel his strong presence. "I think we should take advantage of that distraction to have a date night."

He laughed and shook his head. "We need to be close to the palace for Libby, you know that."

"But your mom is right Maxon; we need a break. While Beckanne is here we can have dinner by ourselves somewhere…we can have a picnic in the conservatory!" I suggested brightly.

He shook his head. "America, I don't know…"

"Please Maxon. I know it sounds clichéd by it will be fun."

He considered for another few moments. "Do I have to change?" he finally asked.

"No." I smiled wide and hugged him even tighter. "Thank you! Seven o'clock?"

He nodded and I knew that I needed to let him get back to work. After lunch, Beckanne arrived. She was a sweet girl, a couple years younger than me but so talented. She had the presence to be a princess but that seemed to be something common among ballerinas.

"Queen America, thank you so much for inviting me here. I am so flattered by your invitation." She thanked me formally.

I waved her off. "I figured my daughter would enjoy doing ballet with you more than with her mother." I laughed. "Before I introduce you, I must warn you that she doesn't look…healthy. Today is better but her appearance overall is a little shocking at first."

"Your Majesty, I could not care less." She laughed, assuring me.

I poked my head into Libby's room. "Libby, someone's here to see you." She sat up in bed, putting down her princess book. "This is Beckanne." I motioned to her as we stepped in. "She's a professional ballerina and one of the best ballerinas in the country. She's going to hang out with you tonight."

Libby sprung out of bed and ran over to me. "Really Mommy?" She bounced at my feet. "Oh, yay! Are you going to teach me how to dance?" she asked Beckanne.

Beckanne laughed. "What else are we going to do?"

I left them a few minutes later and changed into a different dress. Maxon and I had both started to care less about our physical appearances, our daughter's needs consuming our lives. But since tonight was our first date night alone since the ballet I decided that I could fix myself up a bit more. My maids did my hair, coiffing it elegantly and then they put on a little bit of makeup.

At seven o'clock sharp, I met Maxon outside the doors to the conservatory. It was too cold outside to have a real picnic and in the conservatory we had the lights and heaters to keep us warm. We held hands as we walked to where the maids had set up a blanket and basket of food.

We sat and talked and laughed and fed each other food. We spent a long time catching grapes in each other's mouths, sometimes laughing so much that we lost all focus and ended getting hit in the face by it. When we were done eating, we just sat entwined with glasses of wine next to us.

"I'm glad we did this." Maxon whispered to me. He was stroking my stomach, making me shiver.

I smiled and nuzzled my head into his neck. "Me too." I met his gaze and kissed him. We kissed passionately for several minutes before he finally had to pull away, both recognizing that we had to stop because we were about to cross the line of what was meant for the bedroom and what was acceptable anywhere else.

As we made our way outside, Maxon used my hand to stop us. "America, I want you to know that whatever happens with Libby…I've always cherished her. No matter what we went through in the beginning of her life, before she was even born…I've always loved her."

"Maxon, you don't need to tell me that."

"I do though. Because she is the most precious thing in my life besides you and I'm afraid that when we lose her, I'm going to forget what she was like."

I shook my head. "You won't. Max, I've never told you this but when I thought you were dead, I always thought about you. If anything, I couldn't stop thinking about you. You were so wrapped up in my life that it was impossible to forget you. That's how it will be with Libby. It will be painful at first, but we are married, partners in life, and we're supposed to help each other get through tough times."

He nodded. "You always know the right thing to say."

"I know." I said, kissing him.

**I know I haven't updated in a couple days (the horror!) but I went to Hershey Park with my sister yesterday just as a sister roadtrip day before she moves out. Please review!**


	33. Chapter 33

_Realize now that when your heart breaks, you got to fight like hell to make sure you're still alive. Because you are. And that pain you feel? That's life. That confusion and fear? That's there to remind you, that somewhere out there is something better, and that something is worth fighting for. – Nathan Scott (One Tree Hill)_

* * *

_"But in a story I can steal her soul. I can revive, at least briefly, that which is absolute and unchanging. It's not the surface that matters, it's the identity that lives inside. In a story, miracles can happen." - Tim O'Brien_

* * *

Libby's health started declining quickly. Once her immune system started to kick out, she attracted more infections and was bed-ridden. Her hair got so brittle that we eventually had to cut it short into a butch cut. She tried her best to stay positive, I could tell, but some days even that needed too much energy.

Nearly seven weeks after her diagnosis, Dr. Macky called us into his office for a meeting. "Your Majesties, your daughter's health is deteriorating. There is no easy way to say this, but the time has now come for you all to decide what kind of quality of life you want your daughter to have for the remainder of her time here. Right now, there are several things keeping her alive but they're doing just that…soon enough she'll just remain in a vegetated state unless you decide to pull the plug and let nature take its course."

"Those are our only options?" Maxon asked, squeezing my hand.

Dr. Macky nodded. "I'm so sorry that we don't have the kind of medicine the United States had before the third World War because it was a much more curable disease with that."

Maxon nodded. "Yes, I've been doing my research. And there's no way she could…improve?"

"Right now," Dr. Macky sighed, "you would need an extreme miracle. The cancer has taken over most of her body; she has more cancerous cells than healthy cells."

"We'll discuss it tonight and return to you first thing tomorrow with our answer, is that okay?" Maxon asked.

"That is quite okay, Your Majesty. Thank you."

Maxon extended his hand. "No, _thank you_ Dr. Macky."

In the end, after a very long and painful conversation with my husband and mother-in-law, we decided that Dr. Macky was right; it was best to take Libby off of the life supporting machines and let her die naturally.

Things seemed to slow down after that. Maxon practically abandoned all of his duties in favor of sitting in Libby's bedroom with me all day. Queen Amberly did what little of my work she could concentrate on herself. Days blurred into stretches of daylight and darkness with no breaks.

Maxon and I started sleeping in Libby's bed with her curled between us. He told her stories about princesses and castles and dragons and heroic princes while I comforted her when she was in pain or cold. We woke up a week later to Libby breathing shallowly. We called the doctor and he came and told us that she was close to passing and to say our goodbyes then. Queen Amberly requested a note to be sent to my family and Maxon's extended family, informing them of what was happing and that they were needed.

I held on to Libby's hand as she shook. Her big brown eyes looked up at me, scared and filled with a fearful wisdom too mature for a five-year-old. Maxon was sitting on the bed with Libby, holding her in his arms.

"Tell me a story Mommy." She whispered, her voice getting more and more raspy with each word.

I sighed before starting the story I'd told her a thousand times before. "There once was a princess. Her mommy and daddy loved her very much. She was so beautiful and so talented. She was so full of life and happiness that the sun shined from her eyes. She was very smart; always the top of her class. She got that from her father."

"And she got her beauty from her mother." Maxon interjected, looking at me with misty eyes.

"When the princess was old enough, her father had thirty-five handsome princes come to their house. She had to choose one that she loved the most…the one that she would marry." I took a deep breath as I watched Libby's eyes drift shut and her shaking increased.

Maxon cut in. "There was one prince in particular. He was incredible. He had all of the merits that the princess's father was looking for; he was handsome, intelligent, kind, generous, and strong."

"They fell in love." I finished for him. "But her father had one test that the prince needed to pass in order for him to marry the princess. So the king rounded up all of the dragons in the land and told the prince to go catch them all. He only had one hour. If he didn't accomplish it, he wouldn't be able to marry the princess."

"He rode a flying horse all over the castle grounds and eventually, he caught all of the dragons. There was just two minutes left for him to catch them all." He kissed her forehead.

"Mommy…am I…the princess?" Libby croaked out, keeping her eyes closed.

Tears filled my eyes. "You will always be my princess."

"Can I live happily ever after?" she asked.

Maxon hiccupped. "All princesses live happily ever after."

"Even the sick ones?"

"Especially the sick ones. They get a special castle in heaven where they have sleepovers and parties all of the time and they eat cookies, and French fries…" he had to stop himself. I could see that he was barely holding himself together.

"Can I have a cookie?" she asked, her voice barely heard.

I nodded as the tears spilled over. "Yes." I nodded.

She took several breaths, shuddering the entire time. Then she stopped shaking. She took one last, shallow breath and then there was nothing. "No." I sobbed out, leaning my head into her hair. "No, no, no, no."

Maxon's tears fell on my head. I could feel his hands running up and down my back and squeezing my shoulders. Eventually even he couldn't maintain his decorum and started sobbing. We hadn't just lost our daughter; we'd lost a large piece of our hearts and our lives. Five years…gone, not coming back. If I tried hard enough, I could feel parts of my heart falling apart and separating from my soul, shriveling up into blackness and then dissolving and melting like snow.

I don't know how long we both laid there holding our daughter but at one point I realized that the tears simply wouldn't come anymore. Maxon's arms around me got tighter and then I was being pulled away from her. From my daughter. They were taking me away from her. Forever. "No! Don't make me leave her! I can't leave her!" I yelled, trying to get out of his arms but they were like steel and I had no chance of getting away.

Soon his arms were replaced with another bed and a whole new wave of sadness swept over me, drowning me. My eyes were dried up so I just laid there, heaving and choking on dry sobs. "She's gone…she's gone." I kept saying. Without her in my arms and Maxon's arms around me, I felt naked…vulnerable.

At some point I fell asleep. When I woke up, there wasn't any sun streaming through the windows. It wasn't dark either. It was just raining. I stirred and realized that Maxon was lying next to me, his coat and tie discarded and draped over the end of our bed. My movement woke him up too. My eyes met his eyes and I couldn't help but think of Libby…her eyes were just like his. I could cry again.

"America." He put his lips to my forehead and smoothed my hair away from my face. His lips brushed my hair then and his breath gave me chills.

I shook my head. "I don't know what to do." I admitted to him. I didn't even look to see if we were alone but I assumed that people would have the decency to leave us alone during such a difficult time.

"I know." He whispered back. Suddenly, he pulled away from me. "Can I read you something?" When I nodded he reached over to the book on the table next to our bed. Then he came back to me and I curled up at his side. "But in a story, which is a kind of dreaming, the dead sometimes smile and sit up and return to the world." He put the book in his lap and I rubbed my hand across his stomach.

"So what are you saying?" I asked him.

He swallowed and sighed. "I'm saying that she's not gone. Not really. Physically, yes, but she'll never leave us. We knew her, we loved her, we held her; nothing can ever erase that. When my grandmother passed away, I was eleven and I cried and cried to my mother. She said to me, people die two deaths: one when they depart from this world and another when there is no one left to talk about them. So let's make sure people don't stop talking about Libby."

"How?"

"We do something to commemorate her. I don't know. We can take our time deciding. I don't want to rush you into this…" I was quick to cut him off.

I knew what he was doing. "Maxon, stop. Stop being the hero. It's okay for you to grieve too. You don't have to be a king, not here with me."

He hesitated. "If I fall apart, I may not be able to put the pieces back together."

"You always can, just put them back together differently." I stroked his face and a few tears leaked out of his eyes. That was all he needed. We laid, curled up together, sobbing until the tears ran out and letting sleep claim us.

**By far one of the saddest things I've ever written. Please review!**


	34. Chapter 34

"_I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born." – Isaiah 66:9_

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I gaped at the scenery outside the window of the car as Maxon drove us along the windy road. The mountains towered above us, pearly white and glistening in the sun. I could tell when Maxon looked over at me and smiled but even his beautiful face couldn't make me look away from the majestic landscape of Swiss-Austria.

"We are allies with the royal family here but I figured that since this is more of a vacation we'd stay somewhere more private than their palace." Maxon explained. "My family owns a chalet in St. Anton that we used for vacations when I was younger and my dad came here on business. It's been unused since I've started going on business trips and my mother didn't want to be here by herself."

I nodded and looked over at him. I ran a hand down the back of his neck and held it on his shoulder. "So what do we do here?" I asked him.

He smiled mischievously. "Well, I only ever came here as a kid but I have an old friend that lives in France and comes here often. She said you spend a lot of time out on the snow, skiing and whatnot and I figured whatever time we had left we could spend drinking and cuddling."

"Cuddling?" I repeated. "And, um, I don't ski."

"I don't either. But I figured I could teach you how to snowboard." He peered over at me from the corner of his eyes.

I raised my eyebrows. "This sounds dangerous." I laughed, looking back at the mountains. He reached over the center console of the car and took my hand. It had been a long time since he had driven us anywhere and I like the feeling of being totally free of doing whatever we wanted. There would be security at the chalet, of course. I felt his thumb rub over the back of my hand.

He raised it to his lips to kiss. "I'll keep you safe, I promise."

It had been a few weeks since Libby had passed away. As soon as our families were gone and it was Maxon and I together again, alone in the palace with his mom we both started to settle into the life we would've had if she wasn't born right after we married. Slowly we started to mend the heartbreak that threatened to cripple us every day. Queen Amberly suggested for us to come here as a sort of catalyst for the healing process. It didn't take long for Maxon to agree.

We drove through the mountains for a few hours before finally arriving at the chalet. There were two maids who watched and kept the chalet clean and ready to us at all times all year round. They unloaded our bags as Maxon gave me the grand tour. Finally he led us to the master suite.

"I've never stayed in this room since I was always with my parents when I came here. We can stay in here or my room, whatever is more comfortable." He stood in the doorway as I wandered around the room, five years of marriage not being enough time for me to get used to the extravagance of my husband's life.

I sat down on the bed and bobbed up and down, testing it out. "I feel kind of weird sleeping in your parents' room." I told him honestly.

He laughed and sat down next to me. "Our room in the palace now is my parents' room."

"But we made it our own. This is still the way they left it."

He nodded and pulled me up. "My room it is." We laughed as he led me to his room which was a lot more cozy and felt more _right._ I didn't feel like I was imposing as much in his room. And I knew it was ridiculous to feel like I was imposing because it was technically my house too but it was still new territory for me.

We quickly changed and he led me to the 'locker room' which was pretty much another bedroom on the first floor of the house renovated to hold snow equipment and snow clothes. He gave me the pants and coat that I had gotten before we left and I pulled them on over my sweater and other baselayers. He fitted me for a snowboard and boots, instructing me in how to put them on.

Tugging my beanie over my ears, he smiled approvingly. "Perfect." He said, kissing me on the lips quickly before pulling me outside. We took a gondola to the top of the mountain which only yielded more spectacular views of the scenery.

He got me bound into my board and taught me the basics of how to stand and stop. It didn't take me long to realize how bad I was at it. I was never inclined to athleticism, mostly because I never had the chance to do sports but I could still manage most of the time. This was not one of those times.

After a couple hours and hundreds of falls, I laid in the snow, wanting to never get back up. "Maybe you'd be better at skiing." Maxon suggested, sliding easily into a sitting position next to me. Despite not being on a snowboard in nearly ten years he looked flawless. It wasn't fair, to say the least.

"Maybe you can just show me all of your neat little tricks and we can call it a day."

He laughed and stood, sliding around slowly to give me a helping hand up. He waited to make sure I had my balance before he let go. "Try to just lower your toes a little bit and then bring them up." I followed his instructions and slid forward a few inches before coming to a halt. "Do it again." He urged.

I giggled. "Well this is a lot easier. Why didn't you suggest this before?"

"Try letting your board guide you. Keep your eyes forward and then when you're not comfortable with your speed, shift your weight backward and you'll stop." I did as he instructed but ended up falling on my side. I was closer though.

I sighed. "I'm just a lost cause." I looked up at him, snow drifting down into my eyes.

He helped me up again. "Fine, we'll call it a day. They'll probably close the slopes soon anyway with this snow." He patted my head like I was a kid. "It's dangerous with newbies like you out."

I fake-laughed, following him back to the chalet. Somehow, when we were unstrapping our boots and taking off our coats, we started kissing and that led to us being tangled up in his bed, passionately making love. It was weird, I had never had such a strong craving for him but I took full advantage of our seclusion.

Afterward, as we laid together waiting for our hearts to return to normal paces, I watched the snow falling thick and fast outside the window. I stroked my fingers lazily over his chest, playing with the few hairs that had appeared there over the past years. This was the first time we'd done anything intimate since Libby had gotten sick and it was almost a relief to get the sexual tension between us out of our systems.

"I've missed this." He admitted. I did too. I just didn't know how to say that without making it seem like Libby was a burden. He knew how to say it though. With the right inflection behind his words he was able to make it sound sad.

The subsequent days passed in much the same fashion. The snow didn't let up and the slopes were closed. It was the honeymoon we never had. It almost seemed like Libby was already becoming something in our past, someone we just talked about from time to time.

We were careful though, using protection at all times, even when it was inconvenient almost. Neither of us needed to say anything to know that we weren't ready for another child.

But we had never had the best luck with timing.

A week into our time in Swiss-Austria, I woke up sick. I hadn't been feeling well for a few days but I contributed it to jet-lag and depression; I hadn't been living a very healthy life what with Libby's health being the priority. I knew without even having to take a test because as I was running to the bathroom, I was doing the math.

It had been two months, meaning I would be in the peak of morning sickness time. We hadn't had sex in just about that long. We had been trying for another baby but Libby's sickness wiped every thought about that out of my head.

Maxon didn't need an explanation either. After the worst of it had passed and I was lying with my face against the cool marble floor he sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi bath tub, his elbows on his knees. "You're pregnant." He said it quietly, deep in thought but not needing to even question it.

I shifted so I could look at him. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize." He shook his head and played with his wedding ring absently. "Jesus, we've gotten a second chance."

I sat up but too quickly, forcing me to lean against the cabinets and gather myself before I spoke again. "What do you mean, a 'second chance?'"

"Ames, the timing is too perfect. I told you that something good would come soon. Yes, this isn't a convenient time for either of us but hey, when would it be convenient? What better way to force us to move on from this then to focus on another baby?"

I spoke our fears openly. "What if this baby is sick too?"

He sighed and shrugged. "The chances of that are so low." He knelt down in front of me and put his hand on my stomach. "Ames, we're having another baby," he whispered, his eyes like molten chocolate.

I nodded and almost started crying. But I was done with crying. It was time to be happy. "We're having another baby."

**I've had this planned all along. I know you guys all wanted it to happen so you're welcome. I really have had this planned since I started the book. I've had the entire book planned it's just putting it all into words and on my computer that's the tricky part. Thank you guys for the reviews! I've had a pretty rocky week so your reviews always put a smile on my face and I look forward to reading them every night. Please, keep 'em coming!**


	35. Chapter 35

_A villain is just a victim whose story hasn't been told._

* * *

"Maxon, wake up," I whispered in his ear, stroking the hair at the back of his neck. I kissed the spot behind his ear and repeated myself.

He moaned. "No," he groaned stubbornly.

I sighed, climbing onto his back and letting my full, seven-months-pregnant weight sit on him. "C'mon, it is time to get up."

"Woman, desist!" he pleaded with his face still pressed into a pillow. "I need food."

"Well then you need to wake up." Smiling wickedly to myself, I reached down and started tickling his sides.

That woke him up. He flipped over in a move so fast that I toppled off of him and landed on the floor. He immediately moved to the edge of the bed to help me up but I held up a hand signaling for him to stay. "Did I hurt you? God, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed.

I shook my head at him and kept laughing. I let him help me up. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm laughing so hard." _Stupid hormones, America, stop laughing! _

Maxon cracked a smile and chuckled. "Okay, I'm awake. I take it this sudden burst of energy is due to your family coming to visit today?" he asked, sliding on a pair of pants and a shirt that he wears to eat breakfast in our room. The food was already put out in our sitting room next to our bedroom.

"Just my sisters, actually. Mom and Dad said that I should take advantage of my sisters being able to get here and spend quality time with them and who knows what Kota is up to. He sent me a letter the other day saying that he was preparing for a trip to France." I paused and looked at Maxon. "Do you know anything of it?"

He shook his head. "Negative. But I'm glad you'll get to see your sisters."

After breakfast, we went our separate ways and I worked in the morning, going upstairs in the afternoon to take a much-needed nap. When I awoke, it was to a baby giggling and making cute infant sounds. I opened my eyes to see May and Kenna sitting on my bed with Kenna's newest baby.

"Oh! You guys are here early!" I squealed, hugging them awkwardly.

May laughed. "We wanted to surprise you. We ate lunch with your husband and he told us we could find you up here. How are you feeling?"

"Besides needing to sleep all day, every day? Great." I shrugged.

Kenna peered at me curiously. "Didn't you say that you had less morning sickness with this pregnancy than with Libby?" she asked.

I shrugged again. "Yeah, but it doesn't mean it was a walk in the park either. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just trying to gauge what you're having. You're carrying differently this time too."

"Well, I read that most of the time the second pregnancy is a lot different than the first." May commented, picking a grape off of the tray sitting next to us on the bed that was laden with food. "I personally wish that we didn't have to do morning sickness at all; it sucks."

Wait, May is… "May, you're pregnant?"

"Oops!" She laughed, putting a hand over her mouth. "Yeah, I didn't want to tell you until later."

I frowned. "May, you're not even married!"

"Oh contraire, my sister!" she said, holding out her hand to show me the small ring on her finger. "I thought Maxon would have told you."

I shook my head. "He knows?"

"Of course. She married Aspen's little brother; Maxon granted Aspen two weeks leave for the occasion." Kenna informed me. She noticed my befuddled expression. "He really didn't tell you? He personally told Aspen that he could go since Aspen was about to go overseas for the army."

"Wait, run that by my again?" I demanded. "Aspen is overseas?"

Kenna and May's eyes widened. "You don't know anything, do you?" May asked in a grave voice.

I processed her words and in seconds was out of bed and practically running to Maxon's office. Without even knocking, I burst right through the door. Kenna and May were right on my heels. Maxon was alone, thankfully, and stood up at the sight of me.

"America! What's wrong? Why are you upset?" he asked, his eyes showing worry.

I walked up to him and pushed him roughly. "What aren't you telling me about Aspen?"

He looked past me at Kenna and May. "We thought you'd told her!" May burst out.

Looking back to me, he took a deep breath and put his hands on my shoulders, which I quickly shook off. "I found out right after Libby left us…I didn't want to burden you anymore." He paused. "Aspen was kidnapped by Italian troops and we haven't heard anything about him since."

"How dare you?" I shouted, pounding my fists into his chest. Queen Amberly walked in, the noise attracting her. "You know how I feel about him! How could you hide this from me?"

He rolled his eyes in frustration. "It was a lapse in judgment on my part!" he exclaimed. "I wanted to tell you when things had calmed down but I thought that you were over your feelings for him and you were so happy...like I said, I didn't want to burden you with it."

"I'm never going to be over him, Maxon! He was my first love! He will always be special to me!"

His eyes were tortured. "I'm sorry, okay? I screwed up!" he admitted.

I shook my head. "I can't even look at you right now." I turned on my heel and walked out, heading to my bedroom to cry for the rest of the day. I didn't even know what I was crying about. Aspen's dangerous situation or my first fight with Maxon in years. Kenna sat with me and pleaded for me to eat.

"The stress isn't good for the baby," she said in an effort for me to calm down.

"I'm fine," I insisted, sending a challenging glare to May who was sitting in a nearby chair playing with Kenna's baby daughter. I sat back against the pillows and shifted in discomfort. I'd been feeling faint contractions for a few weeks. Though I'd had more than normal that day, I contributed it to my own personal stress. I didn't think there was anything real to worry about until I felt something pop and felt warm liquid soak into the mattress beneath me. "Oh…Kenna…" I sat up with a hand pressed to my stomach, surprised by how hard it was and the lack of movement from my baby.

Kenna looked at me with wide, scared eyes. "Did your water just…?"

I nodded. "There's no way; I still have two more months."

"May, go get the doctor!" Kenna demanded. "And Maxon," she added.

"No, don't get Maxon," I snapped.

May bit her lip. "Mer, I think we should get Maxon."

"No, it's probably just false labor. I don't need him here."

May stood by the door, looking torn. Kenna ordered her to go get the doctor and nothing else. She put a soothing hand on my face. "It's okay, Mer…" she whispered.

I shook my head. "Kenna, this baby cannot come early!"

"It won't, like you said: it's probably just false labor!" she said cheerily but her smile didn't reach her eyes.

The doctor came and in that time I'd experienced a couple contractions that were stronger than the other ones during the day. He performed a normal check-up and concluded that I was really in labor. "America, I need you to calm down and remember your birth plan you had set. Unfortunately you're too far along to move you. The baby is coming and will be here soon. What do you need?" Dr. Macky asked me.

I was leaning on Kenna, gripping her arm tightly during contractions. "I just need this baby to be healthy."

"Get Maxon." May said at the same time.

"No!" I shouted.

The door of our bedroom was sitting open and of course Maxon had decided to come up to try to sort things out but instead walked in on this scene unfolding in our bedroom. "What's going on?" he demanded in an authoritative voice.

"Your Majesty, your wife is in labor." Dr. Macky bowed out of the way so he could approach me.

"It's too early!" he exclaimed, his voice choked up with anxiety.

Dr. Macky sighed. "Babies come when nature allows. Your child is coming now."

Maxon ran to my other side, sitting in the bed next to me. He brushed hair away from my sweaty forehead. "I'm so sorry about the mess with Aspen. You're right; I should have told you right away. I came up here with a whole speech prepared to try to get you to forgive me…" his voice trailed off.

"I don't need a big apology from you; I just need you to be here for me," I told him in a weak voice.

"I'm never going to leave you." He leaned down to kiss me but I had to cut it off when a contraction came.

For the next several hours he held me and soothed me. Eventually the time came that the doctor gave me the go-ahead to push. The only thing I was aware of were the instructions from Dr. Macky and the whispered encouragements coming from Maxon and Kenna.

The maids had warm blankets ready and our child slipped into the world with very little effort on my part. Dr. Macky examined the tiny baby's body. "Lungs appear healthy, reproductive organs as expected, all ten fingers and toes…" He looked up at us. "Though he's small, your son looks healthy." He held up our son so I could see.

Once the baby was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket, Maxon placed him in my arms. "Our son needs a name," he spoke gently, putting an arm around my shoulders. Queen Amberly had just arrived and she watched us with teary eyes. Kenna and May watched from the corner.

I stared down into our son's eyes. "Abel," I breathed. Looking up at Maxon, I said, "Abel Maxon Schreave."

"Maxon?" he repeated. "Really?"

I nodded affirmatively. "I've been waiting for a son for so long so I could honor his father for being such an incredible man. We've been through a lot in our relationship but you've been nothing except for wonderful if not a little too overprotective. We may not have a perfect relationship but I would never want to be with anyone else." I laughed, mainly referring to earlier in the day with Aspen. "Do you like it?"

His eyes brimmed over with tears and he nodded, smiling wide. "I love it."

**I know this is kind of a weird chapter for me but I thought it was about time to introduce Prince Abel, who I've had on my mind since Chapter 3! I hope you guys liked it! Please review!**

**P.S. I just started a new work-out regiment and if any of you guys are interested, I can tell you about it! It's really easy and only about ten minutes but it still kicks your butt! Let me know! **


	36. Chapter 36

_I'm going to make everything around me beautiful… that will be my life. – Elsie de Wolfe_

* * *

It became clear within the first hour of Abel's life that he was not going to be the calm and complacent baby that Libby was. Dr. Macky assured us that he was healthy but naturally, as a premature baby, he didn't have much strength to keep himself going. He put me on a rigorous schedule for feeding him every two hours and letting him sleep in the time between. Maxon neglected nearly all of his duties in order to help care for his heir but there was nothing he could really do; I was the only one able to feed our son and when he was having a crying fit there was no one that could placate him. Queen Amberly, Kenna, and May did what they could and helped in every way they could but again-I was his mother and his sole provider. Kenna briefly mentioned postpartum depression as an explanation for my obsessing over Abel but I was honestly just a concerned mother.

A week after Abel's birth, Maxon was tucking me into bed when he finally voiced what had been tormenting him for a week. "I just wish that for once, we didn't have to worry about our children's health." He threw a pillow off the bed in frustration. "It's like, no matter what I do, no matter what we do, we can't just have a peaceful life with our kids. Is there something wrong with us?" I just laid there and let him rant, knowing at this point that he just needed to blow off some steam.

Abel's health did start to improve though. We all breathed more easily when his two-month birthday rolled around and he was proclaimed as being "healthy as a horse" by Dr. Macky. Life around the palace finally went back to normal. Maxon resumed a full-time schedule and I worked part-time, still needing to take care of Abel for a majority of my waking hours.

Maxon and I were even able to go do visits to places around Angeles, something we both discovered that we wanted to do more of before Libby got sick. One day we went to a local orphanage.

The orphanage was made entirely for boys and was in an old, run-down building with no air conditioning and barely any heat in the winter. I spent a lot of time with one boy in particular named Jacob and he was particularly enthusiastic to meet Maxon and me.

"My mommy told me, before she died, that I just needed to wait until you and King Maxon were in charge and everything would be good," he informed me.

I smiled and moved on to someone else, not wanting to invoke anything close to treason from this boy. When we returned to the palace, I fed Abel and put him down for the night and then collapsed on our bed as Maxon got dressed. He was quiet and deep in thought for the most part. When my personal maid came to change me, I stayed in my closet and let her remove my jewelry.

"I was thinking that maybe we should do a lot more for those kids. I can't believe the conditions they're living in. I know that I would never, ever want Abel living there." Maxon was still in his closet, talking loudly so his voice would carry.

"That coming from the boy who grew up in the palace." I muttered, rolling my eyes. I added something else in Romanian, my maids first language and basically the only one Maxon didn't know fluently.

He stood against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. "Real funny…now what did you say?"

I laughed and allowed my maid to unzip my dress. I let it rest on my hips as I walked to get my pajamas out of a drawer. "I didn't say anything."

"Marinetta, what did she say?" Maxon asked my maid.

I gave her a look. "Don't tell him." I slid my dress and bra off. I turned back to face Maxon. "Do you mind?"

"Oh no, it's not like we've been married for six years and have had two children," he said sarcastically as he turned to the side and looked at the other side of the door frame. "But Marinetta, as your king you have to tell me."

"Marinetta, you're my personal maid and I'm queen so my word trumps his." I stared her down.

She laughed, more than used to do dealing with the two of us bickering. "She said that you work too hard, Sir." She threw me a mischievous grin before excusing herself.

Maxon gaped at me as I brushed past him and slid into bed. "I work too hard?" he repeated, following me but not sitting on the bed next to me.

"Yes, you work too hard." I rolled my eyes.

"I've barely been working for the past two months!"

I sighed patiently. "It's not that you actively work too hard. I just wish that you could take a break from work every once and a while and actually think about other things…you know, besides work."

"But this is our time to discuss it." He pouted a little bit.

"I know. But it's also become all we ever talk about and as your wife, I am not that interested in talking about work with you every waking moment. Do you realize how little we've focused on our relationship over these last several months?"

He climbed into bed and hugged me. "I know what you're saying and I understand, really and as your husband I don't want to talk about work with you every waking moment either. But work is just so intense and it ties into our lives so much now. I suppose I just have difficulty separating it."

I rested my chin on his shoulder, rubbing a hand across his back. "Have you heard anything from Italy?"

"Not yet. Our troops that we sent there last month has flustered them and I don't think they know what their next move will be. The best thing I can do is just add to our troops, really freak them out. I'm thinking of sending a few spies over. They've been stationed in Swiss-Austria, stagnate for the most part and I'm sure they're starved for work to do." He sighed. "And we're back to talking about work."

"I asked about it. And I only asked about it because I'm worried."

He kissed my temple. "There's nothing to worry about, I promise."

I nodded just as the bell from the nursery rang, signaling that one of us was needed. I went to get up but Maxon stopped me. "I'll bring him in." I sat and waited patiently and he finally came in with our son cradled in his arms. Maxon holding our children was a sight I would never get tired of. He looked so natural with a baby in his arms and I briefly wondered why we didn't have more kids. Then I remembered that we had just finally relaxed with Abel and was thankful that he was our only child.

Maxon was able to placate Abel for a little while by playing with him but then his hunger just was too great. I took him and fed him, relaxing in Maxon's arms. "What's going to happen in the future?" I whispered.

I felt Maxon touch his lips to my hair. His hesitation was answer enough for me but he said, "I don't know." A few seconds later, "But I wish I did."

**I did post my work-out regiment! Since so many of you asked for it I just posted it in the miscellaneous column so go take a look at it on my profile. Some account reviewed and said that I needed to take it down though because it's not "fanfiction," like…whatever. It wasn't a legit account so I don't care. But go take a look! I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter, please review!**


	37. Chapter 37

"_Aerodynamically, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know it so it goes on flying anyway." – Mary Kay Ash_

* * *

"C'mon Abel, please calm down so Mommy can get some sleep." I whispered to Abel as he cried. His face was wrinkled up to a pink mess and his lusty cries echoed through the top floor of the palace, greeting his father as he walked in the nursery. "Maybe Daddy can placate you since he seems to be the only one with that ability these days." I passed him off to Maxon, who laughed.

He smiled at me. "Well we know who his favorite is, at least."

I rolled my eyes and put away some of the clothes that I had received as presents from my family. "He looks so much like you already. It only makes sense. Maybe we could have another baby soon and I could be their favorite."

He snapped his head around to look at me, leaning against the armoire. "Another baby? Really? It's so soon."

I laughed and shrugged. "Well, I didn't mean right now. Maybe we could start trying soon and then eventually…" I bit my lip nervously. "If you're not ready, I don't want to push you at all I just…I don't know. We're finally on stable ground with Abel."

Abel had just stopped crying and his eyes were drooping. Maxon put him in his crib and came to me, resting his hands on my shoulders. "How about this? We wait another couple years," he put a finger over my mouth to stop my protest, "just until Abel is more independent. Then we can talk about having another baby."

"Okay." I sighed, allowing him to kiss my forehead. "Do you mind if I come to the meeting today?"

He checked his watch. "Yeah. It starts in an hour, in the conference room across my our studies." He told me, leaving the room.

* * *

"Sir, there simply aren't enough troops. Men are dying by the hundreds every week. No one is volunteering to go into that. We haven't seen anything like this since the American Vietnam War." General Artois said grimly. "We saw a small upsurge when you joined the forces several years ago but since then those soldiers contracts have expired. We're going to have to pull back in Italy."

I looked over at my husband, standing at the window. He looked out over the gardens as he swooshed his drink around in his glass. I knew he was struggling to find a way to win a losing situation but I wasn't use to him drinking during the day when we didn't have guests visiting. I guessed dealing with the war and Abel at the same time was putting enough weight on his shoulders for him to feel the need for a drink. He sighed and turned to face all of us. "Issue a draft," he told them in a steely voice.

"A draft?" General Miller repeated.

"Sir, the more men we send, the more men die," Carter said.

Maxon looked at me and spoke because he knew he needed to convince me too. "We're outnumbered. When I was in New Asia, we would lose men simply because there wasn't enough men there to deliver artillery to those of us on the front line." I only half-agreed with him. I knew that more men would equal more Aspens. "Issue a draft for able-bodied men of the age of twenty-two. I want twenty percent brought here to be palace guards. The rest I want on the ground in Italy in no greater, no less than six weeks. Pull out one hundred troops from the rebel platoons and send them to Italy in the next week. They'll make do until the draftees get there."

The advisers looked around the table at each other with uneasy expressions. I folded my hands and chewed on the inside of my lip. "Men that are twenty-two to twenty-four." I spoke up, making every head in the room swivel in my direction. "I don't want any more people to die either but in order to stop that we need to send as many men possible to help the ones there already."

Maxon looked at me and then nodded. "Queen America is right," he said to the advisers looking uncomfortable. "A draft is our only option. Able-bodied men between the ages of twenty-two and twenty-four."

"Would you like to start in a specific caste, sir?" General Miller asked.

Before he had finished the question, Maxon was shaking his head. "Absolutely not. All castes are equal. I don't want to pull more men from one than another."

"The people are not going to like this," General Artois pointed out. "They've been unhappy enough as it is."

"Well you should leave that to me and Queen America to handle," Maxon snapped.

Carter sighed. "Have we received any news relating to Officer Leger's status?"

My eyes rose to meet Maxon's, who turned to Carter and shook his head sadly. "But we're not giving up on him."

"Sir, allow me to speak frankly for everyone in this room. Officer Leger was a superior guard here at the palace and I have no doubt that he was anything less as a soldier overseas but with that said, I don't think there is a lot he would not do to save his country. If they tried torturing him for information, there was very little preventing him from simply laying down his life." General Artois spoke with a grave expression on his face.

I got cold. Aspen couldn't be dead. I simply wouldn't allow it to happen. "We'll keep searching," I told him. "Whether we find a body or not, we will keep searching until the last of our resources are exhausted."

"And if the Italians decide to attack Illéa, or more importantly, Angeles? Is there a plan in place?" Carter asked.

"The same one that has always been in place. However, we will have to rework some things due to the proximity of Italy to our other allies in Europe." Maxon turned to me and I nodded to him, giving him the signal that everything had been addressed. "This meeting is dismissed. We'll meet again next week to discuss our next move."

Later, when we were asleep in our bedroom, we were woken by a loud knock. Maxon bolted from the bed and instructed for me to put my robe on and get Abel. When I ran back in I was met with Maxon. "The rebels, they're back…and they're here."

**So what's going to happen? I should have told you guys before about this but unfortunately, this will likely be the last time I update in a week or so because I'm leaving tomorrow to go to the beach for a week. I'll try my best to get some writing done when I'm away so I can update as soon as I get home. Thanks y'all! Please review!**

**P.S. Since I'm getting so many comments and questions about their ages, America is now 24 and Maxon is 26. It's my fault because I confused America's age in the beginning. Here's a timeline: America was seventeen when she married Maxon, eighteen when she had Libby, twenty-one when Maxon went to war in New Asia, twenty-three when Libby was sick, and is now twenty-four. And Maxon is pretty much two years older than her. Don't worry, I'll post a chapter with celebrating one of their birthdays soon!**


	38. Chapter 38

"_It is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things." – Henry David Thoreau_

* * *

Maxon paced nervously in the small room, rubbing his jaw occasionally. I held Abel and fed him as Queen Amberly attended to some letters that she needed to read and reply to. Sometimes if I had limited time I would give her my correspondences and make her answer them for me.

"We killed Rebecca and Marlee. Where are these rebels from?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "Maxon, we're not going to know anything until this is over."

He sighed and sat down next to me for a few seconds before standing back up in aggravation. "There's no way that these rebels are just normal citizens, right?"

"It's not an impossibility with all of the discontent in the lower castes right now," I answered patiently. "Maxon, please, you're starting to worry me."

"What if this is an attack from Italy disguised as a rebel attack?" he pondered.

I looked over at Queen Amberly and rolled my eyes at her behind his back. He turned back to me as the vault door opened and the guard announced that it was safe. Maxon practically ran out, followed quickly by Amberly and myself. When we got to the hallway we all stopped short.

Everything was still in pristine condition. Nothing looked out of place. Maxon turned to General Artois, who appeared from a safe room around the corner. "What's going on?"

General Artois handed Maxon a stack of documents. "We may want to take this somewhere more private." He nodded toward Amberly.

Maxon seemed to understand something that I didn't and nodded. "Of course."

They disappeared and were gone for the rest of the day. When Maxon finally emerged from his study and came to join me in our bedroom, Abel was already asleep and I was barely awake. He laid down next to me, still fully dressed and pressed the solid lines of his body against me as he pulled me into a passionate kiss. I smiled against his lips. "Good evening," I cooed.

He pulled away and I could see the fear in his eyes. "What's going on?" I demanded, sitting up on my elbows.

"I was with the war advisers all afternoon. We have reason to believe that my father has amassed a rebel army."

I shook my head, fear pouring into me like an avalanche. "There's no way."

"Actually, there is. We exiled him but he's found some connection. There's evidence of telegraphs being passed between him and some older rebels from before. They want to overthrow us."

"What do we do?" I asked, sitting up straighter.

He hesitated. "Okay, so my father's influence has spread over the entire eastern region, excluding Carolina of course. But that's not to say that Carolina is safe. Your family will be moved here to the palace for safety purposes," he paused and took a deep breath, "and the advisers feel that we need something positive to happen to kind of get those still loyal to rally behind us and start enlisting in the army so we can fight off the rebels."

"Something positive?" I repeated, already knowing where this was going.

"Something positive like…another heir." He barely waited for my reaction to start trying to give me their side. "It's logical but there's no way to ensure that we'll have another boy and I know that we talked about having another baby yesterday but if it's too soon, I'll tell them that. We don't have to listen to my advisers. We can find a way to stall them."

I shook my head. "Maxon, it makes sense."

"But I don't want to have a baby because someone told us to," he admitted.

"So what if someone told us to?" I asked. "It'll still be our love that creates this child. Nothing will ever change that."

Maxon swept a hand through my hair and kissed my forehead lightly, letting his lips linger. Finally, he must have overcome some sort of internal argument because he grabbed my waist roughly and through me down on my back, his body covering mine. He pinned my hands above my head and looked at me with passion burning in his eyes.

Slowly, with so much concentration that it resembled an artist working on a masterpiece sculpture, he undressed me and tossed our clothes to the side. We loved slowly, eventually building to a passionate and ecstatic release that left us both breathless. It had been months since we made love and we both felt so relieved and satiated that for several minutes are bodies were too weighed down with happiness to move.

* * *

It had been six months. Twenty-seven attacks on the palace. My family had moved into the palace. Abel had started walking and had most of his teeth. We had no idea why it took so long for me to get pregnant for the third time but maybe it was just that – it was the third time.

The rebels had only spread, now covering half of the country. When I was pregnant with the twins, it wasn't as joyous as with Abel and Libby. Not only was it a tougher pregnancy, leaving me with little energy and forcing me to take naps during the day, but even with the support of my family there were so many emotions leaving me unable to look forward to these new additions to our little family.

As things in Illéa grew more unstable and the danger level creeped up for Ones, I started questioning the wisdom in our decision to have more kids. Even if it was what the advisers were hoping would simmer the rebels a little bit, I didn't want to think about the world my children would be living in.

In addition to the emotional turmoil, to make matters worse, Aspen returned from Italy. I was woken one night by a loud knock. Maxon had gone away for a couple days to visit a neighboring province to discuss some strategies with the governor so I was alone except for the guards situated outside my door and Abel, who I started to bring in to sleep with me like I had done with Libby when Maxon was in New Asia.

I wrapped a robe around my big belly and answered the door. "Your Highness, His Majesty told us to inform you immediately on any developments concerning Officer Leger. He was delivered here just a few moments ago. A guard found him on the front steps of the palace."

"Thank you so much Officer James. May I go see him?" I asked, thrilled by Aspen's homecoming. I didn't want to believe it though until I could hug him and feel him in my arms.

I was led to the hospital where Dr. Macky was checking him over. He had lost an incredible amount of weight and it looked like the doctor was stitching a large laceration on his chest but he was alive. When he saw me he practically jumped off the bed with excitement.

Without a thought I hugged him tight, stroking the back of his neck. When I pulled away I asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded and I saw that there was something different in his eyes. Like a wounded animal almost. "Just glad to be home." He smiled at me but I was unconvinced. "Do you think we could talk in my study?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he agreed, waiting for Dr. Macky to finish before following me back upstairs. I sat down in my large leather chair and stared at him with any shame, soaking him up. It had been so long since I'd seen him. "Congratulations," he offered, gesturing to my stomach.

I smiled and blushed a little bit. "Twins," I whispered.

"Twins?" he exclaimed. "Wow, that's…that's great." His voice was a little weak at the end, making his cheery voice sound anything but cheery.

"Aspen, you know you have to tell me what happened to you there, right?" I asked. "We can't even let you back into rank until we are one hundred percent sure that you aren't bugged in any way."

He shook his head. "Mer, there's just one thing I need to tell you. They sent me here with a message."

"What?" I asked him.

"I have to kill Maxon. If I don't, they're going to come here and kill me, kill you, kill your husband and your children and who knows how many others." He paused and looked at me with anguished eyes. "Mer, I'm so sorry. I'm not going to…I would never dream of killing your family."

I rolled my eyes. "There's a relief." My eyes flicked up to look at him. "How long do you have?"

"A year. They understand that it takes time to plan an assassination."

I nodded and bit down on my lip, my hand almost instinctively moving to my stomach. Most days I woke up and just wanted to run away, get as far away from the rebels as possible just to protect my children. I was ashamed to admit that I would even leave Maxon if I could. "That's more than enough time to plan our next move. Why'd they send you at the risk of you telling me everything?"

"I'm going to spare you the gruesome details but I went through a lot to ensure that they believed I was converted to their side."

"For the time being, I'm sending you to a secret room that you don't know about and you'll stay there until Maxon gets home – which will be soon – and will be under heavy guard until we've deemed it safe for you to join us again. I don't want to do it, but I have to."

He nodded and bowed. "Of course." He let the guards take him away and I ended up staying in my study, working until the sky lightened outside. A plan was starting to develop but I needed Maxon to make sure it would work.

Christian Benjamin Schreave and Sophie Anne Schreave were born three weeks before they were due but both were healthy and thriving within weeks of their birth. The same could not be said about the country.

**I updated as soon as I could. I just got home from the beach this morning. I hope y'all liked it and please review!**


	39. Chapter 39

"_Why, what could she have done, being what she is? Was there another Troy for her to burn?" – William Butler Yeats_

* * *

**Quick AN: America is now twenty-eight, Maxon is thirty. Abel is five, the twins are three.**

* * *

"We have no choice," I told Maxon, crossing my arms and staring him down. "I'm not risking our children's lives any longer." We had only been out of the safe room for a couple hours but I had to track Maxon down in his office and have this discussion. With the twins getting older, now almost three-years-old and Abel starting his schooling we had to start making decisions for the betterment of the family, not the country.

"Ames, I understand you're worried…" he began but I was quick to cut him off.

"Worried?" I repeated, half-yelling. "I'm more than worried; I'm anxious all of the time. Mobs have been surrounding the palace for nearly a year, threatening our lives. I've had to send my own family into exile for their own protection! We can't stay here any longer before one of us gets killed. It's only a matter of time until they break in."

He shook his head. "Security is tight. As long as we stay in the _safe_ room, we'll be _safe_."

"And just live in there for the rest of our lives, like groundhogs?" I challenged.

"It will pass."

I snorted. "That's what you said four years ago. It hasn't passed, it's gotten worse. I don't want to live in fear. If they're unhappy with what we're doing, then we have to find a way to fix it."

"They're unhappy with me," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and standing up so he could pace. He picked up a ceramic ball and juggled it between his hands as he walked. "The only way I'm letting you go is if I go too and I can't do that; I can't abandon my country when it needs me the most. They just don't realize it but my father is a tyrant and a maniac. I'm not about to let him win."

I leaned against the arm of a sofa. "We could have a regent."

He spun around and looked at me. "Wait, you're talking about leaving the children here?"

"Yes, what did you think I was talking about?" I paused. "Abel is heir. In thirteen years he'll be old enough to be king, legally."

"And I suppose you'll want to leave him in the care of Aspen?"

I spoke reluctantly. "I was thinking Aspen would come with us."

"Are you crazy?" he yelled. "You are out of your mind if you think I'd be okay with that! You expect me to be okay with your ex coming with us, the three of us being a cozy little group of refugees?"

"It'd be for his own safety as well," I explained patiently. "He's running out of time. Italy promised to kill him if he doesn't kill you soon and the only way to protect him from that is to take him off the grid with us."

"So he can just kill me then?"

I shook my head. "No, he's not going to kill you! Don't you realize that he would never even think of doing that? He knows that it would destroy me if he killed you. All he wants is to get me back and he knows that he's not going to do that by killing you; it will just drive me away even more."

"He wants you back so bad and now you're going to just bring him with us?"

"So you agree, we need to run away?"

He stepped up to me and stared me down, his eyes cold. "Answer my question."

"Mine first," I answered, standing taller.

"It's my birthday."

"You've already had thirty other birthdays. It's not so special anymore."

Finally, his shoulders slumped a little and he sighed. "I'll think about it. I'm not promising anything more, or less."

I nodded and quickly walked out, recognizing that as his signal to me to leave. Abel rounded the corner with Carter in tow and as soon as he saw me he ran up to me with a bright smile on his face. "Mommy, mommy! Carter showed me the room with all of the swords in it and he even let me touch it and hold it! It was heavy, but I was a big boy and held it all by myself! See how big my muscles are?" he flexed his biceps and I couldn't help but laugh.

Alerted by the noise we were making, Maxon poked his head out of his study door and when he saw us he came out and joined us. He crept up on Abel and tickled his sides. Abel laughed and playfully punched his father's back, trying to get him to release him. Finally Abel was put back on the ground. "Daddy, Mommy said it's your birthday today!" he exclaimed. "She said we have to be extra nice but you tickled me so I don't think I have to be nice to you anymore."

He laughed and met my eyes and I saw that he needed to talk to me in his expression. "How about you go get dressed for dinner and if you're good for that you can have an extra big piece of cake and you can practice your karate on me later, okay?"

Abel ran off, Carter jogging to keep up with him. Maxon turned to me. "I'm sorry about the way I treated you just now. It was out of line. You're my wife and queen; I should be working with you, not against you."

I waved it off. "It wasn't an easy decision for me to make you know."

"I'm sure it wasn't." He paused and looked out the window. "My cousin, Ezra, he's twenty-two and has had a good deal of training in the event of him having to assume the throne. He's the eldest son of my aunt's children and the place of regent is all for him."

I nodded. "So we're doing this?"

"Two days from now. That's what I've decided." He clenched his jaw.

"Okay." I sighed, turning away. I went several feet before turning back. "You're not coming to dinner, are you?" He shook his head as an adviser met him and he had to go back into his study. I sighed and walked to our bedchambers to get ready for dinner. Not even birthdays are reason enough for royalty to take a break from work.

* * *

The dark night surrounded is in a black velvet blanket as I drove the car down the dusty desert road, away from Angeles and our home. I sighed, the last lights of the city disappearing over the horizon in the rearview, leaving the sky crystal clear and unaffected by the light pollution.

"We're doomed," I whispered. I knew that running away was only going to buy us time in our lives. Sooner or later, we would be killed.

Maxon reached over the glove box and clasped my hand. "We were doomed the second you entered the Selection." He smiled at me grimly.

"Hey, guys? I'm back here, remember me?" Aspen piped up. I instantly took my hand back and placed it firmly on the steering wheel, still not completely comfortable with driving. "Maxon, take this gun. I noticed you don't have any on you…"

"What makes you think I'm unarmed?" Maxon asked. "Trust me, I have enough fire power on me right now to make up a small country's arsenal. However," he took the gun from Aspen and placed it on my lap, making sure the lock was on, "Ames, you take this one."

I nodded, my heart starting to pound when I saw headlights come up over a hill in the distance, heading in our direction. "There's another car."

"Just keep going. Don't do anything strange, they're probably just campers," Aspen assured me. "Dakota is a popular place to go for camping. The mountains are great for hiking and other adventuring; that's where I went for training."

The car passed us, headlights blinding me for a couple seconds before my eyes adjusted. The sweater I had chosen from the safe house was a bad choice; the wool was making me itchy. I tugged on my sleeves, pulling them down over my wrists more. "When should we stop? We've been driving for a while."

"There's a side road up here that leads to a small town, another twenty miles down the road. I think it's a ghost town so we should be safe settling there for the night," Maxon said, looking at the map in his lap. "You okay with that?" he asked Aspen.

Aspen raised his hands. "I'm just here as a body guard, remember? I follow you all."

We ended up sleeping on the floor of an old diner, setting up our small canvas cots and sleeping bags in the middle of the tiled floor. Maxon and I had our cots pushed together and he held my hand and studied my face. I suddenly felt like I was in the Selection again; cuddling with Maxon with Aspen just feet away. I felt like I was doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing, like I was breaking the rules.

"I love you," I whispered to him.

He nodded. "I know." He kissed the back of my hand. "We'll be okay. I promise."

The next morning we hit the road early, filling the gas tank of the car with one of the tubs of gasoline we'd packed into the back. If there was even a small spark the whole car would go up in flames within seconds.

As I turned back on to the main road, leaving the dusty town behind us, there were more cars on the road which made me nervous. "You think these people are all campers too?" I asked Aspen.

Maxon quickly passed me a pair of sunglasses and pulled my hair back from my face for me. He put on his own sunglasses so we wouldn't get noticed. It was just another precaution.

Suddenly, a car screeched up behind us, bumping into the back bumper. Our car lurched forward and my hands started shaking on the steering wheel. "What the heck?" I shouted, looking in the rearview mirror in time to see the passenger in the car behind us pull out a gun. "Duck!" I yelled, shrinking down in my seat just enough to make sure I could still see over the steering wheel.

"Turn around!" Maxon yelled.

"Stay straight!" Aspen instructed at the same time.

I looked over at Maxon who was crouched in his seat with a gun clenched tightly in his hands. "Speed up, when I tell you to turn, push the wheel hard to the left, okay?" He raised his eyebrows at me, grabbing the clutch in his free hand. Bullets started spraying the back of the car, punching out the back window.

"I knew we should've taken a tank," Aspen grumbled as he returned the fire.

"America, now!" Maxon yelled, suddenly shifting gears. I turned the wheel as hard as I could, forcing the car to screech around and end up stopped in the other lane. "Drive!" He shifted the car back into the proper gear. As we drove past the other car Aspen sprayed the side with bullets.

"We're gonna need more ammo if the rest of the trip goes like this." He pulled the pin on a grenade and threw it out the back window, hitting the car that had been tailing us.

I took a deep, petrified breath. "Who were those people?"

"I guess they recognized us." Maxon shrugged. "Just, go back toward Angeles and we'll take a different road out." He was already looking at the roads surrounding the capitol city on his map. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, Aspen?"

"Oh yeah, I love eating bullets for breakfast," he said sarcastically. We drove for a few minutes in silence. "But seriously, what's for breakfast?"

**I hope you guys liked it! Big changes coming up in the book! Please review!**


	40. Chapter 40

"_She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss. For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!" – John Keats_

* * *

"What do you think the kids are doing?" I asked Maxon suddenly, four days into our trip. We had just crossed into Canadian territory and we all felt we could breathe more easily now that we weren't in Illéa.

He was startled by my question. He kept his eyes on the road ahead of us, clenching the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. We had agreed when we left that we wouldn't mention the kids. It caused too much pain but it wasn't like we could turn back for them at that point. Then Maxon cracked a smile. "Well, Abel is running through the hallways, wreaking havoc, with Carter trying his best to control it. Sophie and Christian…Sophie is playing with her dolls with Miss Lisa and Christian is looking for his brother so they can play and cause trouble together."

I nodded in agreement. "Did we make the right decision?" A gust of wind blew through my open window, tossing my hair to the side.

Maxon looked over at me. "We're driving the rebels away from the palace. By now they had to have noticed that we're not there anymore and they'll start looking for us. They don't our kids; they want us."

We spoke little while we were traveling and somehow, almost naturally, the days started to blur. Our goal was to get to a safe house on the north eastern coast of Canada where we would get a plane that would fly us to safety in Swiss-Austria. The journey would be two weeks by car. We acquired a new car outside Angeles after our car had bullet holes decorating the back panel.

We slept where ever we could, sometimes just taking turns in the back seat while one person drove. We kept our guns locked and loaded the entire team, in case the worst happened.

The worst did happen though. We had just gotten to the small, local airport where our plane waited for us. We waited for the steps to drop down from the small airplane when we heard a gunshot in the distance. Aside from a runway operator, it was just the three of us on the long strip of pavement. Maxon and Aspen both drew out their guns and looked around, instantly alert.

Another gunshot and a bullet hit the side of the plane. I turned and started pounding on the door, pleading for someone to open it. A man's face appeared in the small window and dropped the step but pointed a gun at my head. Within seconds Maxon placed a bullet through his eyes, the man dropping down. I climbed up the ladder and Aspen dragged the man into a closet.

Maxon climbed into the cockpit and started the plane. When he tried to make it move, it wasn't going anywhere. Then he checked the gas gauge. "Damn!" he cursed, slamming a fist on the dashboard. Aspen leaned over the seat and looked at the controls in front of him.

"It's a trap," he whispered. I stood in the doorway behind them as we all looked out the front windows and saw the soldiers that had crept out of the shadows and had their guns trained on the plane.

My breath caught in my chest. "What do we do?"

Maxon reached back and took my hand. "It'll be okay," he promised but he was lying and we all knew it. I could see it in his eyes that not everything would be okay. This was it. What we had been running from…it had caught up with us.

_There was no getting out of this, no more running. There was nowhere we could go. We all held up our guns, looking at the mob in front of us and then exchanging eye contact with each other, promising each other that we'd have our backs. _There was a pounding on America's door to her apartment but she ignored it and kept writing. _Aspen shot through the glass of the window, opening us up and leaving us vulnerable. We crouched down behind the dashboard and held our guns aimed. _The knocking was too annoying to ignore so she closed her journal and tucked it underneath her mattress, carefully arranging the blanket to not leave any sign of disturbance.

She opened the door and revealed Kenna, sans children and laden with a tray of coffee. "Jesus, what are you doing? I've been knocking for hours." She stepped through the door and set the coffee down on the counter in the kitchen.

"I was just writing," America admitted, nervously looking back to her tiny bedroom to double check that her journal was tucked away safe and sound.

Kenna looked at her sadly. "Not your failed happily ever after, again?"

She shrugged. "Kenna, you don't get it. Besides teaching, I don't have anything left to do but think about what my life would be like if I hadn't left the Selection."

"Mer, it's been four months," Kenna said, sounding concerned. "Mom's worried, we are all, that you're never going to get over this."

She laughed, appalled. "This is how I'm getting over it!" she exclaimed, storming into her bedroom and slamming the door on her sister. They stayed separated for the night, except for dinner. Kenna cooked and they ate in silence, looking at different points around the room to avoid making eye contact.

Finally, as Kenna laid on the couch and America was writing at the kitchen table in her tiny apartment, her sister spoke up. "How does it end?" she asked quietly, not looking away from the TV.

America was taken off guard by her sister's question. Kenna was the only one in the family that knew about America continuing her love story with Maxon in her head. She hadn't paid hardly any attention to him since she'd been kicked out the night of the kind and queen's anniversary ball and she caught herself sometimes wishing that she really was kidnapped by the rebels and that her story became reality. Even though she knew that curiosity was eating up Kenna on the inside, her sister never asked about how her little sister imagined her life ending with Maxon. She answered honestly though. "We all end up dead."

"How?"

"The rebels. Turns out I'm not the perfect choice for him after all, so they kill us." Tears filled America's eyes and realized just how obsessed she'd become. She quickly pushed away her desire for Abel's warm little body to comfort her because he never really existed. Sophie and Christian didn't exist. Libby didn't exist. The chalet in Swiss-Austria didn't exist, that she knew of (she wouldn't be surprised if they had something along those lines). King Clarkson was still ruling. The rebels were still attacking. The New Asian War was still killing more of her friends every day. The Italians were still allied with Illéa. Marlee was still alive, working in the palace. Maxon was still alive. Maxon wasn't her husband. He was Kriss's husband, or Celeste's husband.

The only thing that was real…was their love. How short it lasted. And how quickly it turned into a memory when both of them were separated so suddenly because of a devious plan and a well-thought out lie. The only thing that was real...was the very painful hole in America's chest where her heart had been but her heart didn't even exist anymore.

So if her heart didn't exist anymore…then how could her love for Maxon still be real?

**Soooo…I can't imagine how many of you hate me right now. I feel like half of you hate me and the other half of you are scratching your heads and chins in confusion. Well, review and ask me your questions and if they are good questions I'll answer them in my AN during the next chapter.**


	41. Chapter 41

"_Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance." – Jane Austen_

* * *

The next morning America woke up to the sound of pots and pans banging and the smell of eggs. Rubbing her eyes, she saw Kenna sliding two omelets on to different plates and putting them at her cluttered kitchen table. "Hey, you're up! I hope you don't mind that I made breakfast," she said cheerily from the toaster.

She shrugged and sat down in front of the plates. "I just figured you'd have gone home by now." Picking up a fork, she played with the omelet before finally cutting off a piece and eating it.

Kenna brought over a piece of toast and sighed. "I thought I needed to stay because we – being your family – have decided that you need some sort of intervention. America, it's not right for you to be living in this fantasy world." She reached across the table to hold her sister's hand but she pulled back, giving her a cold stare. "Look, we all understand how heartbroken you were after Maxon sent you home but really, it's time to move on."

"I have moved on! I told you!" she exclaimed. "I moved out, I have a steady job teaching music at the school, and I have new friends."

Kenna shook her head. "If you've really moved on, you wouldn't be writing this story still." She retrieved America's journal from underneath the table and set it between them. "It's brilliant writing but none of it is real."

America picked it up and started reading the top paragraph. _One night in the spring the wind picked up. As I was making dinner for myself I looked out the window and noticed the darkened sky. The wind picked up, sweeping dead leaves down the sidewalks. Weary townsfolk looked up at the gray clouds and hurried home._ It was the only feasible way for her to get back in the palace that she could think of; the rebels taking her.

She stood abruptly and swung open her front door. "I think you should go," she snapped at Kenna. Kenna, never being one for subtlety, threw out her omelet and toast before walking out, slamming the door behind her.

The crash echoed through her apartment, making her jump a little bit. It was a Saturday, which meant that she had nothing to do besides grade papers. She was restless though and couldn't stay still. She wandered over to the stand-up piano that had been gathering dust and was left unperturbed for far too long but just like it had been in the last four months, America sat on the small wooden stool and didn't know what to play. The sheet music was too monotonous for her and she lacked the inspiration to make anything up on her own. Sliding the cover back down on the keys, she left it to gather more dust.

Giving up on distracting herself, she headed down to the town square to get some food from the farmer's market. Now she could actually afford to buy good-quality produce instead of trading things for the bad stuff. As soon as she stepped into the square, her ballet flats meeting the cobblestones, she knew something was different today.

There were people swarmed on the one side of the square, yelling and shouting. Even some of the vendors had left their stands. There were some Eights that couldn't be more than twelve-years-old stealing tomatoes. America, never one for big crowds, wandered over to her favorite fruit stand. "What's going on over there?" she asked the vendor, Libby. America loved the name so much that she felt she had to use it in her fantasy world for her first daughter.

Libby smiled and tallied up the price for another customer. "Prince Maxon and Princess Kriss are visiting, doing a tour of the country, that sort of thing. It's all for good publicity if you ask me."

"Good publicity?" America repeated. "Why would they need good publicity?"

"My girl, you need to get in touch with the rest of the world every once in a while. After you were sent home, mobs of people went to the palace and protested. They all loved you. Since Prince Maxon married Princess Kriss, he's had to prove to them that she's the One." Libby looked at me sadly. "Now, what do you want today?"

She shook her head to clear it. "Um, a dozen apples, a small crate of strawberries, two peaches, and three passion fruit," she listed.

Libby put all of her fruit in a sack and handed it to her. "Thirty-four."

"Shouldn't it be forty?" she corrected, wondering why she was being charge for only half a dozen apples.

"Please America, I'm not going to charge you for six apples that I know you're going to give to those Eights over there." Libby nodded toward the Eights sitting along the wall of one of the buildings in the square, playing a game having something to do with rocks rolling around.

"Thanks," America mumbled as the crowd erupted in more cheers. America did everything she could to not look over there, positive that just one glance at Maxon's golden head would send her over the edge. She bought some vegetables from another vendor and then went to the Eights to give the kids some food. She gave them six apples, two cucumbers, and four carrots.

She crouched down and talked to one of the little boys who was chewing on an orange peel from an orange his older brother had stolen earlier. America didn't exactly know his name but his friends called him Agent K.

She chatted with him and then heard a familiar voice from behind her say, "If only we could get rid of the castes, maybe these kids wouldn't have to live like this."

She stood and turned, seeing Maxon standing at the opening of the alley from the square. She didn't know what to say to answer him but she didn't have to say anything. The kids around her all swarmed toward him. The guard that was with him didn't know what to do with all of the little bodies clinging onto their prince but Maxon motioned to him that it was okay.

Once the excitement died down, a few of them went back to their spots on the ground but kept looking. "They like you," she told him.

He cracked a smile and ruffled one of the boy's heads. "Something's telling me they like you more. You bring food with you." He paused and looked over his shoulder briefly. "I saw you in the square and thought I should come and say hello."

I shrugged. "Hi."

This time he really smiled and kind of laughed. His eyes flashed up to look at her. "How are you?" he asked suddenly.

She bowed her head and brushed past him to retrieve her bag of food and purse from the crate she'd set them in outside of the alley. "I've been better," she said as bitterly as possible. "Congratulations by the way, on your marriage. I'm happy for you."

He shook his head. "America, you don't have to do that."

"I don't have to be happy for you? Why should I pity you, Maxon? You're the one that kicked me out; you could have kept me and married me." She was practically spitting in his face. "If you're not happy with your choice, so be it." She shrugged and started walking away.

"I do love Kriss." There was something in his voice that made America doubt it. It almost sounded like he was convincing himself. "Look, this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come and talked to you."

As he walked away, she called him back. "How do you love her, when you know that she lied to you?"

"Because by the time I realized that she'd lied to me, you were leaving. I couldn't just change my mind like that. I didn't know who to believe and I was petrified of what was going to happen with me and my father since so many people had found out. Everything just sort of…blew up. I didn't know what to do," he explained. There was sincerity in his eyes and she could see that he still was lost. "Now I'm realizing that seeing you today was an even worse decision because I miss you so much."

She shook her head. "You're married. It's not like you can just send Kriss home. Besides, I've moved on. I'm over you."

"What?" He reached forward and grabbed her elbow. "But, how can you be over it so quickly?"

She swallowed, knowing that she had to lie to him to make him believe her. "I never loved you. I was infatuated with you. I looked around and saw all of the glitter and sparkle of your life and was entranced. Then I came back here and realized that I was only in love with the glamor, not you."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to," she laughed. "It's a done deal now." Kriss started to approach them, looking angrier with every step she took toward them. "Better go and join your wife." America walked back in the direction of her apartment.

When she got there she pulled out her journal and a pen. She started scribbling out everything in it. Then she tore all of pages out and into little pieces. She threw the empty binding into the small fireplace in her living room. Then she started picking up the little pieces of paper to throw them in too. As she picked them up though, she couldn't help but read some of them.

_My breathing hitched. It wasn't the first time he said but it was the way he said it. There was so much more emotion behind his voice than ever before. So much heated desire hiding but leaking through. "I love you too." I answered quietly, staring into his eyes with wonder. _She threw that piece of paper into the fire, watching as the edges curled in on themselves, the words disappearing forever.

_Since marrying you, I've forgotten all about the other girls. It's like the Selection never happened and it was just an epic love story between you and me. _Maxon's words that he had only said in her mind, that she still wished he would say to her.

_It wasn't until we were in our bedroom that night, with Libby asleep between us as we lay in bed trying to sleep, that we both cried._

_You were so wrapped up in my life that it was impossible to forget you. That's how it will be with Libby. It will be painful at first, but we are married, partners in life, and we're supposed to help each other get through tough times._

_We've been through a lot together and that's only opened my eyes to how endless my love is for you. I know you have your doubts about this life but I will protect you, support you, and believe in you even at times when you don't believe in yourself. America Singer, will you please end this competition and marry me? _America threw the paper with his proposal on it into the fire with so much vehemence that she felt a strain in her shoulder for a few days following.

It was time for her to be part of the world again. Libby was right. Maxon had to America that she would have men lined up waiting to marry her after the Selection. Why not test that? What better way to get over him than to learn to love someone else? She turned away from the fire, leaving behind her entire made-up future with Maxon and returned to the real world where she hadn't won the Selection. She had lost and she was leaving it behind her.

**Hopefully this chapter cleared some stuff up a bit more. Just as an explanation, when America was kicked out of the palace after Maxon thought that she'd told everyone about his father's abuse, she moved out and started writing as a form of catharsis. She started writing from the time she was kidnapped by the rebels. Please review!**


	42. Chapter 42

"_In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer." – Albert Camus_

* * *

America watched the _Report _a few days later for the first time in four months. In the beginning was the typical address from King Clarkson on the status on the rebels which was extremely vague and lacking in details of what was really going on with them. She curled up on the couch with a glass of passion fruit juice that she had let ferment and then added some whiskey too. It was healthier than ice cream and more delicious, even though it was twice as expensive as ice cream she sacrificed extra money each week for the imported fruit.

Then Gavril came back on and welcomed Prince Maxon, who had just returned from his tour across the country with his new wife. She anxiously turned up the volume. "Now, Prince Maxon, what was your favorite place you visited?"

Maxon thought for a few seconds and then answered, "I love all of the provinces here in Illéa. They each have their own unique qualities that make them special to me in some way but I had the most fun in Honduragua."

"Honduragua?" Gavril repeated. "Well I can't argue with that, those people do know how to have a good time."

"For sure. You know, when we were there the governor gave us a tour of the old city. It was really interesting just because it's been there for so long. The city was built in what, the sixteenth century? It's the oldest city in the country, I know that."

Gavril shrugged and laughed along with him. America rolled her eyes at their candidness and pulled out a stack of papers on Baroque music to start grading. "Did you do anything exciting there?"

"Yes, actually. We stayed on the west coast of the island, which is beautiful. It is all rainforest and we, one night, went to dinner with the governor and his friends and it was a great time. I tried guinea pig for the first time," he added with a laugh.

"Guinea pig?" Gavril repeated. "I thought that was something more special in Central and South America, not Honduragua as much."

Maxon nodded. "Yes, you're right. But one way or another the Honduraguans learned how to make a mean guinea pig. I won't be eating it again but I had to try it."

"And how did Princess Kriss take it?" Gavril asked.

"She was a trooper. She didn't try guinea pig but in Columbia she tried alligator which, I had a bite of, and it wasn't bad. It was alligator sausage, so I'm not sure if there's a difference between the sausage kind and plain alligator but I'm sure it's still good either way."

Gavril leaned back in his chair. "Now, did you see any of the Selected while you were out touring?"

"Only a couple," he hedged. Her ears perked up and she looked up from her stack of papers.

"And so the rumors of your encounter with Lady America, in the Carolina; are they true?"

Maxon looked a little uncomfortable but the general public wouldn't be able to tell. "I did speak with her, yes."

"How did that conversation go? I mean, she had, by far, the most dramatic elimination that we have seen in the Selection in years. Now, to think it was all a misunderstanding, what did she have to say to you?"

"You know," Maxon began, "I've always held the highest opinion of America. Many would argue with me on this because of her background as a Five but she was definitely a stand-out in my eyes. Our relationship progressed at a much faster rate than my relationship with any other woman." America could tell he was being careful so as not to give away too much.

"So why is she not our princess?" Gavril asked, his tone serious.

Maxon shrugged. "Just, irreconcilable differences I suppose. I did feel awful about the mix-up at my parents' party but you know, I have very little to complain about with Kriss. She is the perfect wife and I can see myself being happy with her for many years to come. And as for America, we parted with a mutual civility and I think we both have the closure we needed."

"Liar," America whispered to herself.

"So you're saying that you still had feelings for America before this tour?"

With wide eyes, Maxon started backtracking quickly. "Well, no, but my feelings for America were very fierce. I just," he paused and collected himself, "when she was hear I was infatuated with her. I was entranced by her simplicity because let's face it, my life has never been ordinary or understated and I think that her normality was like a breath of fresh air to me. But after she was gone, I realized that my feelings for her really weren't sincere."

"He stole my words!" America exclaimed, yelling at the TV.

Gavril sighed and nodded. "Well, that's all the time we have for tonight. Thank you Prince Maxon." He shook his hand before beginning the standard closing greeting.

America sat on her couch, fuming. With a furious click, she turned off the TV and still sat on her couch in silence, thinking over the interview. She had picked a bad week to start watching the _Report _again. It took her a little while to realize that the phone was ringing.

"What?" she demanded, knowing that it was some relative.

"Is this America Singer?" the voice on the other line asked. That was no relative.

She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. "Yes, sorry about that. May I ask who's calling?"

"I'm Kyoto Melling from the Angeles Ballet Company."

"Oh, of course Mr. Melling. What's the reason for you calling?"

"Well, you see, I have just heard a recording of you playing violin at one of my good friend's parties and you are quite talented, I have to say. One of our violinists from the orchestra just dropped out actually and I was hoping you'd be able to play for us in her place."

She debated for a few seconds. "Mr. Melling, I appreciate the offer but I'm so busy with teaching and Angeles is such a long way to go, especially if I have to take time off."

"We've already spoken with your school and they said that they would cancel your classes for the two weeks we need you and they'll pay you while you're gone."

She was taken aback by the trouble he'd gone to already for her. He must have really wanted her. "Mr. Melling, I'd love to do it," she agreed after several moments of thought. "When can I start?"

* * *

America unpacked her violin and put rosin on her bow, watching the other musicians arrive. They were practicing in a rehearsal studio as opposed to the pit. She took her seat in the first chair position and started plucking through the notes, going through the most difficult passes first so she'd have more practice time.

"If you need a smoke, I'll share with you." A woman said, sitting down across the circle of chairs from her. She had a cello sitting next to her chair.

"Excuse me?" America asked.

She cracked a smile and held out a hand that America would have to stand and walk to her to shake. She politely declined and the woman laughed. "If you don't need a smoke at the end of this rehearsal, I want whatever drugs you are taking." She slapped a man's butt as he walked past her to the percussion section. "I'm Ginger by the way."

"America."

"Please, we all know who you are," Ginger scoffed.

A young man sat down in the second chair spot for the violins and rolled his eyes. "Ginger, lay off," he yelled to her. "I'm Jay." He nodded to America but didn't offer anything else in the way of a greeting.

America sighed and lifted her violin to her shoulder but stopped when Jay flipped over their sheet music to a different page that she'd already worked on. He smiled at her again and went back to practicing. Her shoulders slouched a little bit. _I'm way out of my league here,_ she thought.

The conductor entered and tapped his baton on the stand in front of him. "Settle down, please," he called to the room. The din of instruments faded and then grew silent. "Now, many of you have probably noticed that Gwen isn't here. Not to worry though, I've gotten us an excellent substitute. You may recognize her from the Selection, Miss America Singer." He motioned for her to stand so she did and bobbed a quick curtsy. "Okay, okay, let's start with a quick warm-up."

After rehearsal, America drove her rental car to the building she'd be staying in. She lugged her suitcase and violin to the third floor where her room was and had to catch herself from stumbling over the threshold of the door. Of course, Ginger was sitting on one of the two beds in the room.

America sighed. "Great, just great."

Ginger was painting her toenails. "Look, sweetie, we got off on the wrong foot. My brother likes to make me look bad."

"Your brother?" America repeated. "Is this my bed?"

Her roommate nodded. "My brother, Jay? He was sitting next to you all morning? Anyway, he's probably just jealous that he's not first chair. That and he has a big crush on you. He has since the Selection."

America raised her eyebrows. "Well, he didn't talk to me most of the morning," she dismissed. She unpacked her clothes, aware of Ginger watching her the whole time. "You mind if I play some music? It's a little quiet in here." She held up her portable speakers that she normally kept in her desk at school.

Ginger laughed. "Well, if you have the means to, why not?"

She hesitated before plugging them into her record player. She had forgotten that she led a very different live than most musicians now that she was a Three, not a Five. Jay poked his head in the door. "Oh, great, you're here," he jeered at America. With that he left.

"Is he always that aloof?" America asked.

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Pretty much." She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and held them out to America, who waved them off. She knew how much smoking could damage her vocal chords. "Suit yourself."

They rehearsed twice a day for the next week. America managed to become well-acquainted with a few other musicians in that time; Maggie, a grandmother who colored her hair on a weekly basis and played flute, Titus, a fourteen-year-old piano prodigy, and Oliver, Titus's father who played the string bass.

The biggest surprise of the week came on the third day, when Jay asked America out. She was packing up her violin, casually chatting with Ginger when he approached her.

"Hey," he said, announcing his presence in her proximity.

"Hi." She had to admit, he was kind of cute. He was short but well built, with brown hair and blue eyes. "Don't forget to practice that one musical pass in the second song. It's really tricky and we're kind of off in our timing." He nodded, standing next to her like her shadow. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, stop being a creeper," Ginger snapped at him.

He flipped her off before turning his attention back on America. "Would you like to go out with me tonight?"

_He's cute, go ahead, _a voice in her head urged. _No, what about Maxon?_ She asked. _Maxon is married and could care less about you at this point. This guy is cah-ute and most importantly, interested._ She smiled at him. "What time?"

**So that's it for this chapter. Don't think that this book is close to being done yet! I have a bit more to go! Please review!**


	43. Chapter 43

"_Life's a voyage that's homeward bound." – Herman Melville_

* * *

Jay held America's hand tightly as they walked down the sidewalk in Angeles. She laughed as he pointed out strange things people were doing as they passed by. They would occasionally stop for a photographer that recognized America and wanted a picture of her. They both carried their violins in their free hands and were bundled up in their coats to protect from the chilly air outside. "Where do you want to eat tonight?" he asked her.

She thought for a few seconds before stopping and playing with the front of his coat. "Well, Ginger has gone out with everyone else and probably won't be back for a few hours…how about frozen dinners in my room?"

He laughed and nodded. They started walking in the direction of their dorm rooms. America would look up at his bright smile every few minutes, thinking about how much more open he'd become since they started dating a few weeks prior. He was new to having a girlfriend and in truth so was she. She had always been a girlfriend under the strangest circumstances and she loved the normality of their relationship. Unfortunately, that was the only thing she loved about it.

She did like Jay, but he wasn't right for her. She knew that the longer she led him on, the harder it'd be for her to let him go. It didn't help that he was planning on moving to Carolina with her after the season was over for the ballet.

The next night was the opening night of the ballet and America's debut. Before leaving, she smoothed her hands over her black silk dress and added the blue bracelet Maxon had given her as a last-minute touch of color on her left wrist. She warmed up, ignoring Jay playfully poking his bow into the ticklish spot in her side. Mr. Melling snuck down into the pit and tapped her shoulder. "Lady America, the royal family is here and as first violinist, it is your duty to go along with the principal ballerinas and I to welcome them."

She felt an icy hand clench around her heart. "The entire royal family?"

"Just Queen Amberly and Prince Maxon." He walked away, not waiting for her to follow him. She caught up to him quickly and lagged toward the back of the group, not noticing that Titus was with them until they arrived outside the royal box. Titus looked nervous, tugging on his suit jacket that was too big on him.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be nervous. They smell nerves like sharks smell blood," she joked but it didn't seem to make him feel better.

They were all escorted into the box by the guards and then Mr. Melling introduced them one-by-one. The ballerinas all dipped their heads and waved their arms in a ballet's version of a curtsy. Titus bowed. Then came America, who was standing at the back of the line. Not knowing how she should bow, she reverted to the curtsy she had been taught to do in the palace.

Queen Amberly smiled pitifully at her. "Lady America, it is a pleasure to see you again." She was dressed so regally and a part of America ached to be able to dress like that again even though she hated it.

"It is always a pleasure to see you, Your Majesty," America said.

"I trust you are well?" Queen Amberly asked.

America looked around nervously, watching everyone file out. Mr. Melling stayed in the box with her. Titus seemed unsure of where to go. "Quite well, thank you," she answered politely.

"We would love to have you come play at the palace some time." The queen was being so nice to her; she didn't deserve it at all. Not after what she had put the poor woman through with her husband and son.

America laughed half-heartedly. "Oh, I don't think so. I'm quite busy with teaching in Carolina. The only reason I came here is because Mr. Melling gave me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Oh, how modest you are America! Tell her how much we miss her Maxon."

Maxon, who had been avoiding the general area of the room where America was standing, looked her up-and-down and then looked away again. "I think we could find better," he said icily.

Queen Amberly frowned at his response. "Well, I would love to meet with you again either way." She seemed displeased with the way the conversation had gone and finally dismissed America. As she was leaving, America heard Queen Amberly talking to Maxon. "If you talk to Kriss like that, it is no wonder she wants to leave."

"My relationship with my wife is my business," he said coolly.

It was all America could do to make it through the first act of the ballet. As soon as the house lights came back on, she grabbed her water bottle and escaped to the roof where some of the musicians went to smoke and drink during rehearsal breaks. There wasn't anyone else up there during intermission.

Except for one person.

America was about to turn around and leave but it was her area, not his. "Only musicians are allowed up here, you know," she called, approaching the edge of the roof where he was sitting.

"My mother doesn't like me drinking in front of her," he explained, gesturing to the glass of brandy sitting on the pavers next to him. He was tearing up a program and throwing the bits of paper off the roof. He was sitting on the edge, his feet hanging over the alley where the stage doors were located. The only light was coming from the light hanging over the entrance to the stairwell some thirty feet away.

She sighed and hugged her arms around her chest, wishing she'd worn her coat. "I heard what she was saying to you about Kriss. She is right you know; you have been a bit of a douche lately."

"Careful, I can have you hanged for treason now," he warned.

"You won't," she challenged, sitting down next to him.

He shook his head. "I'm trying hard enough to prove to the country that I'm over you, I think killing you would do just fine." He balled up the rest of the program and threw it far away, the paper landing on the roof across the alley from them.

She looked over at him, gazing at his profile. "What's going on with you?"

He shrugged. "It's really none of your business." They sat in silence for a while. Finally he resumed, "I just don't think Kriss has what it takes to be queen."

"Queen?" America repeated. "You're being promoted?"

Laughing, he nodded. "If you can call it that. I refer to it as being sentenced. Sitting in that box earlier with you, I was praying Mother wouldn't ask you to play at the coronation. Because that's really what I need right now. You playing for me."

She smiled. "So, your animosity to me and telling Gavril all of the stuff I told you a few weeks ago…that's all just you trying to prove that you're over me?"

He nodded and pulled out another program to start picking apart. "Pathetic, right?"

"Are you doing it to prove it to yourself or to prove it to Kriss?"

"The country. I'm proving it to the country," he snapped, obviously getting frustrated. "I just said that."

"I don't believe you."

He shook his head and stood up abruptly. She followed his lead and stood with him on the edge of the building. "I'm tired of everyone trying to stick their noses into my business. My deteriorating marriage is no one's business but mine and Kriss's."

"Uh huh," America nodded, knowing that he was fighting the urge to tell her.

He exhaled, like he'd been holding his breath for a long time. "Okay fine. Well, first of all, I'm trying to act like my marriage is just fine when in all reality, it hasn't even been consummated."

"Wait, what?" She was fighting the urge to laugh.

"I can't! Not with her!" he quickly defended.

She laughed quietly and said, "Go ahead, say it."

He laughed along with her. "She's just so matronly. I feel like I'm trying to make love to my mother."

They were both laughing hysterically and finally America asked, "And that's a problem because?"

He rolled his eyes. "Between that and the fact that she knows I still love you, I can understand why she's unhappy." He sighed, getting serious again. "Some nights, when I can't sleep, I go up to the roof and sit on the edge like tonight. I just think, what if I jumped off? What would happen? I never would of course. But really, what would happen?"

She shrugged and placed her hand on his arm to comfort him. "Everything will work out."

"I tell myself that. Every morning, I wake up and think, this is the day. Something will happen with Kriss and I can get America back. But then it never happens," he said sadly.

"Maxon," she sighed, "I have a boyfriend."

His head snapped up and he looked at her in surprise. "A boyfriend? Who?"

"His name is Jay. He's the second chair violinist. He says I'm the best but I know he's a lot better. He doesn't like to show his emotions in public and he's quiet. He has absolutely no sense of humor. He's the sweetest but he's also a really bad kisser. I mean, I'm his first girlfriend so that's expected. He's moving back to Carolina with me when this season is over and he loves me to death," she gushed.

He nodded, absorbing it all. "Am I a bad kisser?"

She laughed. "No, you caught onto that pretty quickly." She folded her arms. "I don't love him."

"I wish you did."

"Me too. It would make all of this less confusing," she looked out at the lights across the city. "That's the worst part of being one of the Selected. You'll always have men that want you but you'll never love the same again."

With a tentative hand, he put his arm around her shoulders. They both stood stiff for a few seconds before finally relaxing into each other, absorbing how natural it felt. "I need a hug," he finally admitted.

She laughed and turned to hold him, her arms tight around his waist. They stood there for who knows how long, until she finally lifted her head away from his chest and looked into his eyes. "I have to get back."

"Me too." He withdrew his arms. "I've missed you so much."

She bit her lip reluctantly. Then she smashed her mouth against his. His hands roamed her back, twisting around her neck and into her hair. She gripped the back of his suit jacket. He tasted the way she remembered. Even though it had been months since their last kiss, it seemed like it had only been minutes. They finally pulled away, resting their foreheads against each other.

"We can't do this," he breathed. "But I want to."

She nodded. "I really have to go." She stepped away from him, gripping his hand until the very last moment, when she had to let go.

**So what's going to happen? Please review!**


	44. Chapter 44

"_It's the same old story. Boy finds girl, boy loses girl, girl finds boy, boy forgets girl, boy remembers girl, girl dies in a tragic blimp accident over the Orange Bowl on New Year's Eve." – The Naked Gun_

* * *

**I just have to say that you all better feel real special because I am forgoing my summer reading homework to bring you guys this chapter. I have eight days to write a ten-page essay and read a 330 page book but no big deal or anything…anyway, this chapter has a little insight into Maxon's life with Kriss.**

* * *

Maxon shut the door quietly to his bedroom, shrugging out of his suit coat. Kriss was sitting in bed, reading a book. "How was the ballet?" she asked casually as he went to the closet to retrieve his pajamas.

He hesitated before answering, "It was fine. Are you feeling better?"

"A little bit." He heard her close her book and the soft swish of the covers, probably from her laying down to go to sleep.

He looked over his shoulder and indeed, the light in the bedroom had been turned off. He closed the door in his closet a little bit so the light wouldn't bother her. As he washed his face, he looked into the mirror and studied his reflection. Would Kriss be able to tell that he'd talked to America? The next time they kissed, would she be able to sense that hers were not the last lips that touched her husband's?

As he climbed into bed, she spoke up from her side. "I heard America is the first violinist for the ballet. Did you talk to her?"

He was quick to reply. "No."

"Did you even see her?"

"Only from a distance," he lied. That night, he dreamt about America. He was going about his daily business in the palace but kept running into her. She would never talk to him though. It ended up with her running from the castle, shouting that he was a monster and she could never forget how much he'd hurt her. He woke up in a cold sweat, with the gray morning light creeping in the windows and Kriss staring at him.

"You dreamt about her." He rubbed a hand over his face, wishing he could get another hundred years of sleep. "You said her name in your sleep." A few tears escaped her eyes as she climbed out of bed, leaving him alone.

He was still struggling to shrug off the tendrils of sleep as he followed her into the bathroom. They brushed their teeth in silence. He could tell she was angry by the way she threw her toothbrush down into her cup at the edge of the sink when she was done.

"Kriss?" he called, following her out to her closet.

She shook her head. "I don't want to hear your explanation Maxon. You know, I tried everything to win you over, but even when I'm married to you…you're still in love with her." She started to brush her hair herself.

Maxon put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her through the mirror on her vanity. "But I love you," he insisted.

"No, you don't." She set her brush down and turned to look at him. "You don't love me Maxon. You're angry with me all of the time and I get it, I lied to you. I deserve it. But I don't deserve you lying to me about the way you feel. I know that I was your fallback during the Selection but hey, I was something to you. Please, don't make this any harder on me by pretending that you really love me."

He didn't have anything to say to her. His natural response was to tell her everything he felt for her but she obviously didn't want that. He walked to his closet and dressed for the day. Later, when he was in his study doing work, his mother crept in.

"So, I've been thinking…we need to have a party," she suggested enthusiastically.

"A party?" he repeated, not looking up from his papers.

She sat down in the chair across from his desk. "We need something fun to happen around here. Maybe we could invite the orchestra from the ballet and the principal dancers."

He set his pen down and looked at her. "Mom, what are you doing?"

She stood up with a dumbfounded look. "I'm not doing anything. But, if it's okay with you, I'm just going to go plan it now and it'll be this Friday. You should wear your blue tie!" she called as she shut the door behind her.

He buried his face in his hands as someone else came through the door. He knew just by the sound of the footsteps that it was his father. He slammed the newspaper down on the desk under his son's nose. "Care to explain what the hell this is?" he shouted.

Maxon picked up the paper and saw, right on the front page, taking up half the page, was a picture of him and America kissing on the rooftop of the theatre in Angeles from the night before. "Hell of a photoshop," he tried.

Clarkson grabbed the front of Maxon's shirt and pulled him from his chair roughly. "Really? Looks pretty damn real too me. What a coincidence, that you go to a ballet where America is playing and then a fake picture of you two kissing comes out." He was spitting in his face. Maxon knew what was coming. "I brought that little chit out here so you could finally get over your little obsession with her and this is what happens?"

"You brought her here?" Maxon asked. "What do you mean, you brought her here? What did you do?"

"I forced the actual first violinist of the orchestra to drop out and then told the director to bring her here. It was quite easy to do."

Maxon shook his head and threw his father away from him. "How could you do that?"

"I did it for your own good! So you wouldn't screw up your marriage and that girl wouldn't be a threat anymore!"

"A threat? She's not a threat to anyone!"

Clarkson grabbed him again. "Only to you," he growled. "You would give up the throne for her in a heartbeat, I know it! And don't get any ideas of doing that because if you do, I will make you king in minutes and there will be no getting it out of it." His face was turning red with anger. "But, here's this picture and now you have to deal with the consequences." He let go of Maxon's shirt and walked to the door, turning the lock. He pulled the cane from underneath his jacket and threw Maxon on the ground.

He waited for Maxon to strip off his shirt obediently. Then he leaned down to whisper, "How many will it be today? Five, ten, fifteen? They say a picture is worth a thousand words. How many lashes do you think it's worth? Thirty?"

Maxon thought back to the last time he'd been caned. He was able to call America for help. She looked so beautiful that night, in her jeans and simple shirt, her hair loose and wild. Her eyes were gray pools of serenity that calmed him and made it easier for him to sleep at night as long as she was around. Her words echoed through his head so clear it was like she was really standing there, talking to him. _Maxon, you have to put a stop to this. Stand up to him._

Why was he so scared of him? What had he told her? _You know I can't. He'll go after you if I do. _Why had he refused her? She could take care of herself. The first lash bit into his skin and he clamped his teeth shut, fighting the urge to scream out. The skin hadn't been broken yet but it would be soon. Then, just like before, the last words she'd said to him before she left came to him.

_Just remember, who it was you would go to when you needed help the most. Remember who you trusted with all of your deepest secrets in the first place. Remember who was there for you when you had no one else to go to. _Who could he go to for help now? The first time Maxon had taken his shirt off in front of her, she barely looked at him. After that, he had stopped changing in front of her and slept fully clothed, something he'd never done before.

The third lash broke the skin. How many would there be tonight? _I hope you're happy with your decision. You deserve that. I know you deserve to be happy more than anyone on this planet. _He wasn't happy though. He wouldn't be until he could have America as his wife and queen. Rallying what strength he had left, he spun and stopped the cane before it hit his chest.

He pulled the cane from his father's hand, his fingers slipping on his own blood. Without a second thought, he punched his father in the jaw, hard. Clarkson stumbled back and looked at Maxon, standing straight and tall despite the blood dripping from his back on to the carpet. Clarkson started laughing maniacally. "You have no idea what you've started boy." He strode out of the study, leaving Maxon with the cane.

Maxon, remembering that the doctor knew about his father, decided to go down to the hospital. The doctor could do a better job than he could himself anyway. Dr. Macky didn't say anything as he worked, didn't even ask why.

After getting patched up, Maxon decided that he had to do something. While his mother was in a meeting with Kriss, he snuck into her study and looked through the stack of invitations for the ball that had been started. He found America's and took it.

With what his father was threatened, he had to keep America as far away from the palace as possible. After burning the invitation, he decided to call the theatre and order America to leave. He had to wait for the secretary to find America in the rehearsal studios. He had told her he was a coworker from Carolina so she wouldn't get suspicious of why the prince was calling America.

"Hello?" America's voice.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "America, I don't have much time but I just need to tell you that you need to get out of Angeles now."

"What? Maxon? What's going on?" She was confused but he couldn't tell her what was going on. "I can't just leave the orchestra. They're paying me and I can't let them down."

"America, please, I'm begging you. Go back to Carolina." Desperation seeped into his voice.

She hesitated. "Maxon, unless you give me a plausible reason, I'm not just going to leave. And by plausible, I mean if there's a nuke coming this way. If not, I'm staying here." He couldn't find a reason to give her, and was quiet. "I have to get back to rehearsal," she said and then hung up the phone.

Out of ideas, Maxon decided that she was safe as long as she didn't come to the palace. His father couldn't do much to her outside of the palace so he would have to pray that for now, she'd be safe.

**What's going to happen? Okay, I really have to do my summer reading now. Please review!**


	45. Chapter 45

"_Hit the point once. Then come back and hit it again. Then hit it a third time – a tremendous whack." – Winston Churchill_

* * *

Kriss reached up and adjusted Maxon's blue tie. She smiled as she patted it to keep it in place. "Perfect," she approved quietly before moving to the dresser where she'd left her jewelry. She put it in her earrings and then handed her necklace to Maxon.

He clasped it around her neck and briefly admired how beautiful she looked in her matching blue dress. "You look perfect as well," he easily complimented, still trying to make her feel better from their argument earlier that week.

She blushed and smoothed her hands over her dress. "I tried my best," she said, sounding underwhelmed. "We should probably go meet your parents and get ready to be introduced."

He hesitated. "Actually, I think I'm going to go welcome the guests. You can come with my parents later."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Go ahead." They parted ways in the hallway. She went down to Clarkson's study and he went to the ballroom. When he entered, he was freshly amazed by his mother's knack for decoration. The room was dressed in blues and silvers, making him realize why she told him to wear blue. The servants were putting on the finishing touches as the first guests arrived.

He stood by the table with the placards and seating assignments on it to welcome his guests. After about ten minutes of shaking and kissing hands, he started to get bored. He always loved meeting people but after so many they all blurred together. One of the ballerinas, a tiny thing, was gushing about how thankful she was that he had gone to see the ballet.

As she was talking, Maxon happened to look up at the door in time to see America walk in on the arm of another man. He assumed he was her new boyfriend by his timid posture and suddenly felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. It was all he could do to hurry the line along so they could get to him faster. What was she doing there?

"Prince Maxon." She curtsied, finally reaching him. She was wearing a blue dress with a ruffled skirt and peacock feathers accenting the bodice. It was by far the most expensive dress of all of the guests from the theatre but she was the only one who could afford such a dress. She allowed him to kiss the back of her white-gloved hand. "This is my boyfriend, Jay."

He bowed stiffly, gaining confidence suddenly and almost raising his nose up at Maxon. "Prince Maxon, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I've certainly heard a lot about you."

"Well I know it was all positive," Maxon said, his voice hard. He glanced at America who had sensed the tension and looked between them. "I hope you both have a pleasant evening. Perhaps I could introduce you to my wife later."

America nodded. "Oh yes…great."

The ball began and Maxon started to dance with his guests as the line of arriving guests slowed down. It was customary for the royal family to make their entrance halfway through but in truth, Maxon was avoiding his father at all costs. It was nearly an hour before he managed to get a dance with America.

"I'm sorry about the picture," she apologized.

He smirked although his back ached a bit at her mention of it. "Maybe we should just be extra cautious of the proper distance for us to be apart while dancing," he suggested. She nodded in agreement. "America, why are you here?"

She looked like she was expecting him to ask her that question. "Jay was a plus-one. Although, I'm sure I would have received an invitation had you not intercepted it. I only know you did because of your phone call to me earlier this week. By the way, what was that about?"

"Just…I'm trying to keep you safe from my father," he half-lied.

She nodded again. "Why though? Kriss won, I'm no longer a threat. What is there for him to not like me for?" Realization crept into her gaze. "He didn't…you know, about the picture, did he?"

There it was again, her being referred to as a 'threat.' But he couldn't lie to her as easily as he could lie to himself. "Yes, he did."

"Oh Maxon," she moaned. "I'm so sorry. I thought it'd be over with me gone."

He shrugged. "I fought back though."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

"That's why I was trying to protect you. He's furious and he threatened me." His eyes swept the room naturally, his body tensing up with just the mention of his father's anger. "But anyway, it's no big deal. As long as you are here in my arms, you are safe. He's not going to touch you."

"Maybe Jay should come to Carolina to protect me," she said sadly.

"God, America, don't marry him," he finally said, not being able to hold it in any longer.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Just don't." He searched her eyes, looking for any kind of comprehension. "Don't marry a Five."

She took a step back abruptly. He immediately regretted his words. He didn't even know why he'd said it; it just slipped out. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean that…"

"Are you serious? Don't you realize that if you had chosen me, you would have married a Five? I mean, are you being for real right now? How could you say that?" she exclaimed. People around them started to look.

He blushed and fought the urge to go hide in a corner. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that…"

"No! Don't apologize! I'm sick of you saying stuff that you apparently don't mean. How many times are you expecting me to be able to forgive you?" she challenged. With a hand to her eyes to wipe away her tears, she stormed out.

The doormen announced the entrance of Queen Amberly and Princess Kriss from the other side of the room. Maxon looked at the opening doors and then spun back around to see America leaving the ballroom. His father was still in the palace somewhere, and America was out in the open. He took off after America, shouting her name to stop her.

America wiped her tears away, ignoring the fact that she was getting make-up on her white gloves. She slowed down in the foyer and lifted her eyes. King Clarkson was descending the steps slowly. "Well, look what we have here," he mocked.

She was terrified of the look he had in his eyes and realized that Maxon was right; she shouldn't have come to the palace. He approached her and stretched a hand out to her. "Don't touch me," she growled quietly.

Maxon came screeching into the foyer, stopping when he saw America and Clarkson. He choked out her name and started to run toward her at the same time Clarkson grabbed her and pulled her toward the steps. Guards appeared and held Maxon back, despite his ferocious efforts to follow them.

Clarkson pulled her roughly through the palace with a hand gripped tightly on her elbow. She was sure she'd have a bruise there but she knew that should have been the least of her worries. They got to what she assumed was Clarkson's study and he threw her away from him. He locked the door behind him and withdrew a cane from one of the bookshelves. "I can't tell you how long I've waited for this moment, when I can officially rid my son of you, rid this country of you."

She slithered away from him as he raised the cane, getting ready to bring it down on her. There was a gunshot, followed by the sound of wood splintering. America closed her eyes for what was to come. But the lashing never came. She opened her eyes and saw the back of a guard standing in front of her protectively.

"Touch her and you die," Aspen threatened.

Clarkson laughed. "I can have you hanged for that."

"Not if I kill you first. She didn't do anything to you." Aspen was holding his gun aimed at the king just as Maxon ran in and picked America up off the floor. Maxon had gotten a sword from somewhere and also held it up.

Clarkson laughed and pushed Aspen aside, pulling out a gun and aiming it at Maxon's chest. Queen Amberly and Kriss entered. Amberly motioned for America to go over to her and she hugged her protectively.

"Maybe I'll just kill you," Clarkson taunted, his gun not wavering.

Maxon held his hands up in surrender, recognizing that his sword was no fight against a gun. "Go ahead, do it. You won't though," he challenged.

"Oh, you think so?" Clarkson smiled wickedly.

Everything blurred together. Clarkson pulled the trigger just as Aspen tackled him to the ground. Kriss threw herself in front of Maxon and they both fell to the floor with a thud. Guards rushed in and restrained the king who had started foaming at the mouth and speaking in a string of unintelligible words. Maxon was crying but America's view of him was blocked by a sofa.

She ran over to him and saw him holding Kriss, who had taken the bullet in her stomach for Maxon. She reached a bloody hand up to touch his cheek. "No, Kriss, it'll be okay, you're okay," he insisted, shrugging out of his jacket and using it as a sponge for her blood.

America knelt down beside them because even though she and Kriss weren't really friends, the girl looked so alone and vulnerable, bleeding out on the floor. "Maxon, shh. Don't worry about me," she whispered.

He choked out a sob. "Kriss, just stay with me."

She shook her head slightly. "No, Maxon. You can do it now. You can marry America. I guess this is my punishment for trying to keep you two apart. I still love you though." Her breaths became ragged and then died out. She died in her husband's arms, with very little fanfare and no epic speeches.

Maxon sat on the floor with her in his arms, crying. Queen Amberly walked over and joined them, kneeling next to her son and pulling his head to her chest in a motherly hug. America stood and backed away slowly, looking down at her bloodstained gloves in shock.

Someone commanded to send the guests home. Aspen met Jay to tell him that she'd be staying at the palace because she couldn't leave them in the state they were in. Not with how involved she was. It was all her fault. None of it would have happened if she had listened to Maxon and left Angeles.

After what felt like hours, Maxon's sobs quieted and he was able to relinquish Kriss's body to the doctor for the final preparations for burial. Maxon had to go through the messy work of contacting her family and dispatching soldiers to tell her friends. He also had to go through the paperwork of his father's move to a mental institution outside of the city.

Amberly and America sat in his study with him, statuesque in the chairs by his desk. They watched the multiple guards filing in and out and finally, Amberly sent America to get changed. Her maids found her and bathed her, clothing her in linen pants and a loose shirt.

The sky was starting to brighten when she decided to seek out Maxon. She found him on the back terrace of the palace, looking at the fountain in front of him. She stood by his side dutifully. "I'm sorry for your loss," she whispered.

He took a long swig of his drink and shook his head. "Funeral one day, coronation the next. This is not how I imagined my life turning out."

She didn't have anything to say to that. "Look, I can stay here as long as you need me to."

"I don't think that's the best idea," he said quickly. "You should go."

She nodded, knowing that he wasn't really upset with her but he was trying to save his skin. "Well, I'll be seeing you then." She patted his shoulder, wishing she could hug him but she knew he didn't need the confusion of their relationship at the time.

Saying goodbye to Queen Amberly, she was driven back to her dorm, where she laid in bed for the rest of the day. She waited for sleep to claim her but every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kriss's bloody body with Maxon crying over her. So she laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, finally falling into a fitful, restless sleep.

**So…yeah. Almost done my summer reading, no one can fathom my excitement that I'm almost done this paper. Haha. Please review!**


	46. Chapter 46

"_I have immortal longings in me." – William Shakespeare_

* * *

That night America was woken up by someone pounding on her door. She groaned and looked at the clock next to her bed; it was nearly four in the morning. Ginger was whining and sat up, rubbing her eyes. America stumbled out of bed and propped the door open, her senses being assaulted by the smell of alcohol. Maxons brown eyes met hers. "America...I...am so sorry," he slurred.

Ginger walked up behind her. "America, what is going on?"

She shook her head and waved ginger off. "Okay, Maxon, you can't be here. You need to go back home."

"No!" He yelled suddenly, making her jump. "No, I want to stay here."

Ginger looked uneasy. "America, you need to bring him in here before anyone recognizes him."

America sighed and then noticed Maxons pale complexion. "I'm gonna be sick," he groaned.

She ushered him into the bathroom and knelt next to him as he puked into the toilet. Ginger watched from the doorway, grimacing.

"Go back to bed, I'll stay with him," America told her as she rubbed a hand up and down Maxons back.

He finally stopped throwing up and looked up at her with sad eyes. "I shouldn't have let you go," he moaned.

She nodded and rolled her eyes. "Okay."

"Don't leave me."

"I won't."

He shook his head. "Promise me."

"I promise, I won't leave you."

He nodded and laid down on the cold tile floor. "Good," he mumbled, falling asleep.

America sat against the wall, watching him sleep. After it became clear that he was down for the count, she grabbed her pillow and slid it underneath his head and covered him with her blanket. He had occasional fits where he'd mumble her name, Kris's name, and other intelligible words. As the night went on though, he only said her name.

Around 7:30, ginger poked her head in the bathroom. She normally got up early to do some calisthenics but America could hear the tv talking. "You may wanna see this," she whispered, leading America back into their shared bedroom.

On the tv, the news program was showing absolute chaos on the streets of Angeles surrounding the palace. Mobs of people had swarmed the palace, demanding they hand over the king. "Which king?" America asked in a strangled voice.

"Clarkson, they said." Ginger paused. "They want Maxon too. They know he isn't in the palace and they're demanding that whoever is hiding him hand him over. They're even offering a reward."

"I'm not throwing him out in the streets. Not with people like that out there looking for him. He could get hurt!" She whisper-yelled, conscious of the fact that he was still sleeping.

Ginger rolled her eyes and sat down on her bed with music to practice her fingerings. She would practice her cello more often if it wasn't so much work to unpack it. America sauntered back to the bathroom, realizing then that it reeked of alcohol, which meant she probably did too. She grabbed an air freshener from underneath the sink and opened it before going to get new clothes to wear since showering was out of the question, with Maxon lying on the floor. She sat in there for another hour or so, dozing in and out until he started to stir. She could tell that he was sober and would probably want to come out so she went to talk to Ginger about what to do.

"What do you mean? We turn him in!" Her roommate exclaimed.

America shook her head. "No, we have to find a way to keep him hidden."

"Are you serious? Can you look past your little world with him and see that we're both in huge danger if the rebels find out he's here and were hiding him?"

"I am thinking about our safety but as future king of this country, his is more important," America argued calmly.

Ginger shook her head. "Listen to yourself! We're not in the guard, we don't have to protect him. But of course you feel obligated because you're still in love with him!"

"What's so wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that? Have you forgotten about my brother, Jay, who is also your boyfriend whom you've been stringing along for weeks now?" America had nothing to say to that because she knew Ginger was right and she had every right to be mad. "You may not deserve it, but I'll keep his location a secret. I'm leaving though because I don't want to get caught up in this." She grabbed her jacket and a small backpack with some stuff in it. "Be careful. Know what you're getting into," she warned before slamming the door behind her.

America stood there in stunned silence until she heard the bathroom door open. Maxon appeared in the doorway to her bedroom and she barely had time to register that the tv was still on before he grabbed the remote to prevent her from turning it off.

"What's going on?" He demanded in a weak voice.

America leaned against her dresser and faced him. "The rebels, they want your dad."

He nodded. "Figures," he muttered, sitting down on Gingers bed.

She sat down on her bed adjacent to him. "So, are you going to tell me how you ended up passed out on my bathroom floor?" She finally asked, needing to know the answer no matter how scared she was of the answer.

"Shortly after you left, our advisers made some shocking discoveries. They pulled out old files about Kriss and found out they were fake. When we finally got the real ones, we found out that she was a rebel sympathizer. I couldn't handle it. So I drank away my sorrows and you know the rest."

"If she was a rebel sympathizer, why did she throw her life down for yours?" She asked, not seeing how that made sense at all.

He shrugged. "I guess in the end, she wanted to protect me." He pointed to the coffee maker next to her. "Can I have some?"

She nodded and flicked the switch on it to brew a new pot. "If it's any consolation, I am glad you're okay. I guess now what we need to do is decide what our move is."

He frowned. "You're helping me?" he asked. "Why?"

She smiled. "Like it or not, you're in my apartment and I am still in love with you."

He looked at me with sad eyes. "I can't deal with my relationships now. I have to focus on fixing my country."

"I know. And when you're ready to deal with relationships, I'll be here." The coffee machine beeped and she poured them both a cup of coffee. They sat down on the floor facing each other with a deck of cards. America was dealing cards the cards when she asked, "This may be a weird question, but have you ever been drunk before?"

He laughed. "It's not a weird question, I respect it. He picked a piece of popcorn out of the bowl sitting next to them and thought on it. "Last time I got hammered was in Swiss-Austria at my parent's chalet."

She nearly spit out her coffee. "Your family has a chalet in Swiss-Austria?"

"Yeah. One of my friends, of the five that I have, is a ski guide in the mountains there. He's pretty cool, named Christian. He was drunk too and we did all kinds of bogus stuff but all I remember is promising him that I'd name one of my sons after him." He laughed at the memory.

America wasn't laughing though. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I also vaguely remember running naked through the snow. My parents weren't there, in case you haven't figured that out yet."

This time she did laugh. "I just thought that they were drunk right along with you." She shrugged. "There's a vendor at the farmer's market in Carolina that I'm kind of friends with. I would use her name, Elizabeth, for my first daughter."

"And a son?"

She shrugged again. "Abel, I guess. But I figured I'd always let the dad decide."

"I like those names." He leaned over and kissed her lightly. He pulled away after a few seconds. "I just…I wanted to do that."

She nodded and leaned away. A crash came from the floor below them. "Did you hear that?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he breathed out. "They're coming. They'll find us."

She stood up and hugged him tight, breathing in the scent of his clothes through the smell of alcohol. She knew it would be one of the last times she'd see him. "Maxon, I love you," she whispered.

He touched his lips to her hair. "No matter what happens, I'll always be with you."

The door to her apartment crashed open with a loud bang and a few rebels ran in. They smiled when they saw her and Maxon standing there. They laughed and celebrated and taunted the two of them. Maxon maintained his composure and kept his chin held high. They were handcuffed and led out of the building.

People flooded the streets, their shouts creating a roar that hurt America's ears from the volume. They were taken back to the palace. America looked up at the majestic architecture, cherishing the sky because she felt that it would be the last time she saw it.

They were taken to Maxon's study, where the rebels had gathered to await their arrival. The one who had been guiding them to the palace unlocked their handcuffs and closed the door. "All of you, bow to the new king and queen of Illéa!" he barked to the rebels.

Maxon snapped his head around to look at the rebel that had spoken as people bowed. America spun in a slow circle and watched the rebels sink down to the floor. "What…?" she whispered, speechless.

"What is this?" Maxon asked.

"You're our king. I'm sorry we had to take you out like that. We didn't want the people attacking you two. Your mother is safe and your father has been exiled. We've wanted you to be king for many years now."

He frowned. "You're not going to kill us?"

The rebel laughed. "Of course not! What do you say, you want to be king?"

Maxon looked at me and started laughing and she did too because it was contagious. He ran and picked her up, swinging her around. The rebels started clapping and she had to step away so they could shake his hand and pat his back. She had to let him have his moment.

Queen Amberly entered and hugged her son, tears spilling from her eyes silently. "I was so worried," she saw her whisper in his ear.

America decided that would be a good time to leave. She slipped out the door and started walking down to the front doors, the guards letting her out with little hassle. She had made it to the front gate when Maxon came running out of the front doors, sprinting across the cobblestones to catch up to her. "America, wait!" he called.

She turned and waited for him to reach her before she spoke. "I have to go."

He nodded. "I know."

"Maxon, I'll give you space and time. But when you're ready, I'll be waiting for you. I'll be in Carolina the day you decide that you've healed enough to marry me. Just…don't make me wait too long, okay?" She wanted to say that she'd waited long enough and she wanted him to take her right then but she knew he wouldn't.

"I won't," he promised, tears brimming in his eyes. He hugged her, rubbing a hand through her hair. "I'll come for you."

She pulled away, wiping away her own tears. "See you later, then." She pushed open the gate and stepped out into the square where she'd go to her apartment, grab her clothes, and head home.

**I tried to get this chapter up as fast as I could but I've been doing summer reading and I went to New York for the day yesterday so I've been a little busy. Please review!**


	47. Chapter 47

"_Country roads, take me home." – John Denver_

* * *

"Okay, Ezra, can you tell me which composer it was who wrote the piece in front of you?" America asked, leaning against her desk with her arms folded in front of her.

Ezra looked up at her and shrugged. "I would, but you blocked out the spot on the paper where they write the composer's name," he said. His friends next to him laughed.

She nodded and laughed with them too. "You always have a smart answer for me, don't you?" She pushed off from her desk and walked up and down the aisles of the classroom of teenagers, kids that weren't much younger than her. "Audrey?"

"Schubert?" she guessed.

America shook her head. "Joel?"

He leaned back in his chair, content. "It was Beethoven," he answered confidently.

"Guys, look at the passes in the notes, the dynamics…if you did, Joel, you'd recognize that two hundred years younger than Beethoven," she went back up to the front of the room and flicked on the projector, revealing the answer. "Malotte, guys," she sighed. "It's the same style as the Lord's Prayer."

Everyone nodded and wrote it down on the papers. Audrey was frowning and raised her hand. "But Malotte wasn't the original composer of the Lord's Prayer, Miss Singer; it was Perry Como."

"Points to Miss Boone for recognizing that, but you need to reverse it. Malotte was the original composer, Perry Como did a modernized arrangement of it in the year 1959…around the time Ms. Struk was born," America joked. "I'm kidding…she was born in 1969. Okay, now, today we are starting a new unit on electronically enhanced music."

The students looked interested. America smiled at their amazement and thanked the heavens for having such a great group of kids. Music was required class at the school that no one ever liked because they had a stuffy old bat lady, Ms. Struk, teaching it. America took her position but Ms. Struk was the substitute whenever America had to go away.

"We're looking at one composer in particular, named Jorge Quintero. Now, for this kind of music, composers are not necessarily called composers: they're called disk jockeys, or DJs for short. Jorge incorporated the string orchestra with a dubbed beat. Some of his most popular compositions include Marcatto String Madness, 300 Violin Orchestra, Orchestral Hip Hop…extra credit to the person who can tell me what marcatto is." She said, flipping the slides on the projector for the kids to copy down the notes. She looked at the sea of enthusiastic raised hands in front of her, everyone vying for extra credit. "Blythe?"

"It's a bowing technique for strings!" she answered brightly in her sweet voice. America smiled and nodded.

"Very good." She turned back to the projector. "But I lied about the extra credit, you know I don't give it out that easy." As she was flipping the slides over, some of her students started laughing. She turned and faced them. "What's going on?" Blythe pointed to the door with a small smile. She turned and saw the one and only Maxon Schreave standing in the doorway. He was smiling at her and dressed in casual clothes. "Um, Audrey, do you mind going through the slides for a few minutes?" I asked, stepping out of the room and pulling the door shut behind me. "Okay, we have about three minutes before they go crazy."

He smiled. "I'm glad to see you," he said sincerely.

"Well, you're a little earlier than I expected." I folded my arms, tugging my sweater around me.

He surprised me by pulling me in for a rough hug. He held on to me for a long moment before pulling away and leaving his hands on my shoulders. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," she admitted, dreading what was coming.

"So you still love me?" he asked. She nodded so he tugged on her hand. "Then let's go. Everything is set up for you at the palace. You'll be in the Princess Suite like before and I'll be in my room and my mother has your study set up, I think you'll like the color scheme she chose for you…"

She held up a hand to stop him. "I can't go with you Maxon."

He shook his head and frowned. "But you said…"

"I do love you."

"But…?"

She sighed. "I can't just pack up and go. I have a life here. I owe it to my students to finish out the year and to at least find them a suitable replacement. I've made a commitment to this school and I've already missed enough time."

"What happened to waiting for me?"

"I didn't think it would be this fast. I thought that I still had time. It's only been a few months since you were made King and yes, I was waiting for you but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm ready to pack up and move in with you."

He looked confused but she couldn't blame him. "So you lied to me?" he demanded, his voice growing louder.

"No, I didn't lie to you," she insisted, trying to hush him. "I guess I just wasn't clear enough. Like I said, I have a life here and I can't just leave and move to the palace. I've just gotten comfortable here." She looked in the small window in her door, seeing her students starting to get restless. "Look, we can finish this later. Here are my keys to my apartment; I'll try my best to be back before five."

He nodded and took her keys. "Fine," he said stiffly.

She watched him leave and then smoothed her hands over her pants, taking a deep calming breath. She walked back into the classroom with just a couple minutes left of the class period. "You all can pack up for today; we'll finish tomorrow."

They were all looking at her quietly. "You mean, you're staying here?" Audrey asked from the projector.

America rolled her eyes and chose not to answer her. "Don't forget that your projects are due on Tuesday," she reminded the class before sitting behind her desk. They all filed out, one-by-one and finally the room was empty.

She was in auto-pilot for her last two classes, not giving them the full attention from her that they deserved. She packed up her bag and biked home just like she did every day. When she got to her apartment, the door was unlocked and she poked her head in, only to see smoke coming from her kitchen. "Maxon?" she called, running in and dropping her bag on the floor.

"It's okay," he assured her when she ran into the kitchen. He was standing over an extremely burnt casserole.

"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled. "Are you trying to burn the building down?"

He used an oven mitt to fan some of the smoke away and grimaced. "I _was _trying to be nice and cook you dinner but I forgot that I don't know how to cook. So, I suggest you order something for take-out because I don't think charred lasagna is very good for you."

She suppressed her laughter and spread her hands out to calm herself. "Okay, first we're cleaning this mess up. Did you forget how to clean too? I mean, look at this…" she lifted a soggy napkin from the counter covered in flour. "Why were you using flour in lasagna?" She shook her head. "I actually don't want to know." She pulled a bottle of bleach out from underneath her sink. "The trash can is on the other side of the counter."

After they cleaned the kitchen America pulled a bottle of wine out of her cabinet and opened it, pouring them both glasses. Then she took stock of what she had in her pantry that she could make dinner out of. "Okay, I've got a frozen pizza in the freezer. Why don't we just eat that?" she suggested.

He frowned. "I've never had pizza before."

She gaped. "Never?" He shook his head. "Have you never been Italy?"

"Well, yes, but I always ate what my father made me eat. Pizza is a finger-food; royals don't eat finger-food."

She pulled two out of the freezer. "Well, in that case, I'm going to make extra." She unwrapped them and turned on the oven. She felt Maxon's arms loop around her.

"I'm sorry for making the wrong assumption…about everything. I just…I'm so ready to be married to you and move on in my life that I forgot how difficult this all has been for you," he whispered in her ear.

She laughed quietly. "You're lucky that I love you so much." She turned in his arms so she could face him. "It makes it easier for me to forgive you."

"It used to be the catalyst for your lack of forgiveness."

She shook her head. "Not anymore. It's hard for me to be mad at you, knowing that I could lose you. I may be a pushover but so what? I may not deserve you, but so what?"

"I promise you…that when you are my wife, and we are living in the palace, we can eat all of the pizza you want." She could feel his lips moving on her neck and sighed, pulling away.

They talked and talked and ate pizza and drank wine. Finally, as Maxon swirled the last drops of the wine in his glass, he looked at her and asked, "How much time do you need?"

She considered. "Two months," she guessed. "That's the earliest that I could leave."

He nodded and considered it. "Two months," he repeated. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand down his face. She could see the stubble starting to appear on his jaw and realized how much he'd aged in the past year. He was no longer the naïve teen she had met at the start of the Selection, but a king. For a few seconds she was awestruck at the thought of his power until she remembered that soon it would be her power too.

"I know it's not ideal," she said, breaking the silence.

"It's not," he agreed, folding his arms. "But beggars can't be choosers, right?" He drank the last of his wine. "Can I ask you something?"

She shrugged. "Go ahead."

He collected his thoughts for a few seconds. "Do you really see yourself with me in the future?"

"Why are you asking me that?" she asked, propping her elbows on the table.

"Just answer the question."

She shrugged. "I love you. I told you that."

"I know. But…I saw how happy you were today. And you can't leave, necessarily. So, will it be worth it for you to leave and pursue a totally different career in a foreign environment in the midst of moving?"

"Are you questioning me?"

He shook his head quickly and sat up straighter. "No, I'm questioning myself. Look, America, I don't have to be married. The Selection is just a way to appease the public with a healthy dose of their most eligible bachelor and give people hope for a good future. I love you so much and I don't want you to give up what you love for me. I don't want that on my conscience."

Her shoulders sagged. "I don't know how to argue with that."

"I think, that for now we should say our goodbyes like before. And in two months, we'll reassess," his voice was quiet.

Tears immediately filled her eyes. "Reassess? Reassess what? My feelings for you are not going to change."

"Mer, we're not kids anymore. You have a life here and I have mine on the other side of the country. My feelings won't change either but we need to be adults and be logical."

She shook her head, tears leaking out. "I don't want to be logical. I want you."

"But you want to teach."

She let out a choked sob, knowing he was right and knowing that she wouldn't be able to get the same kind of teaching experience in Angeles. "And the country needs their king."

"They deserve my full attention."

He stood and took his jacket from the back of the chair. He put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead but she refused to look at him. If she did she'd fall apart. "Two months," he whispered to her. Then the only other sound was his footsteps and the door shutting.

**Some of you think I'm making America into a pushover. But let me ask you this: have you ever really loved someone? Because you have to understand that sometimes you love someone so much that no matter what they do and what they put you through, you can't not forgive them. It causes more pain being separated than being heartbroken, really. So maybe to you she seems like a pushover, but I think she realizes that not having Maxon is more painful than whatever he puts her through.**

**Anyway, my little rant is over now. I promise I will try to find the time to write but my classes in school this year are really hard and demanding. But, I'm not abandoning you guys. I can promise one update every week and that's still pushing it but I love to test myself so I'll take the challenge. Review please!**


	48. Chapter 48

"_Oh Lord, Oh Lord, he's somewhere between a hangman's knot,_ _there wasn't a wrong or a right he could choose, he did what he had to do. Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I'm begging you please don't take that sinner from me." – The Civil Wars_

Maxon came back a month early. Again, he was completely unannounced. America came upon the landing of the floor her apartment was on and he was sitting against the door. "Tell me you're not wasted again," she said, drawing his attention to her.

He looked up at her and stood, brushing off the back of his pants. "No, completely sober."

She unlocked her door and looked at him coldly. "Then why are you here? I thought we agreed two months?"

"I needed to see you. This month has been torturous, not being with you," he explained, following her in and making himself at home despite the fact that it was only his second time in the apartment.

She shook her head and dropped her keys on her table, putting a hand on her hip. "I've missed you too but it doesn't change anything that we've talked about already."

"I know," he nodded, sitting down at her small kitchen table. She sat down across from him and slid off her heels. She looked unhappy. "What's wrong?"

She half-shrugged. "It's just been a rough day," she answered vaguely.

He leaned in closer to her. "Tell me about it."

She considered his offer for several moments before sighing heavily. "I just…the school's considering cutting the music program because they don't have the money to pay me or the band director anymore. I don't want to lose these kids; they're all so talented and they are just getting to realizing that. So now I need to prove that my classes are more worthy than any other art class which I hate altogether because I love all kinds of art and I don't want any of them to get cut. There are much more worthless classes than any of the art classes. But my kids found out today that I may be losing my job and they're up in arms now…it's just a mess." She sighed again. "Art classes aren't even supposed to be that important but it's just something about how I teach it…"

"America, it's you. They like you," he cut her off.

She shook her head and laughed. "No, that's definitely not it."

"Believe it or not, you're a likable person."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, right next to the boogeyman."

He laughed. "I like you. And I think the school would be incredibly mistaken to let go of you. I mean, c'mon, you're Lady America Singer from the Selection. You're one of the Elite, a status you'll hold forever."

"Woo-hoo," she feigned enthusiasm. "I'm sorry to unload on you like that."

He shrugged. "I don't mind." He moved closer to her and kissed her softly. He pulled away and she leaned her chin on her hand.

"We shouldn't do this," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

"I disagree," he mumbled against the skin below her ear. He kept kissing her along her jaw line, waiting for her to concede. "I love you," he whispered and even in a quiet voice she could hear the emotion behind his sentiments.

"I love you too." She didn't want to be doing this but she had no choice; she may not have wanted it but she _needed _it. So she kissed him back. "We still have another month," she reminded him against his lips.

He shook his head. "It's negotiable." He pulled her closer to his body roughly, his hands tight around his waist. She felt his fingers reach her zipper, toying with it. Finally he pulled it down and she felt his hands hot on her back, reaching inside her dress to the smooth skin beneath her bra.

Suddenly she stood, pulling him up with her. They kissed their way into her bedroom and finally landed on her bed, his body trapping her there. He slid her dress off gently, leaving her undergarments on. She worked on the front of his shirt, the buttons hard work with her shaking hands. He chuckled and helped her, meeting her halfway. He slid it off for her, the sleeves catching slightly on his muscles. She ran her hands over his back, meeting his eyes.

"Is this okay?" she asked, tracing the welts with the tips of her fingers.

He sighed with pleasure. "It feels wonderful," he whispered, kissing her again. He pushed her up to the top of her bed and kissed along her bra line, playing with the straps as he deftly worked the clasp. Their passion built slowly and finally they were both shivering with anticipation, knowing they were too far gone to stop now.

She couldn't stop wiggling her toes and brushing the bottoms of his legs with her feet. He gently pressed her back against the pillows and kissed her on the mouth again. "This may hurt at first," he warned, "but I'll be gentle, I promise." With that he slid the rest of her clothes off along with his. Within seconds, they were joined and bonded as man and wife.

Afterward, they lay next to each other, catching their breath. She traced the lines along his back, studying them and committing their dark, abstract beauty to memory. They stared into each other's eyes knowing that they were now joined in the same way people over the previous thousands of years had been, down to the beginning of time. It was a love as old as time, and a love as tragic as a Shakespeare play.

They laced their fingers together and America studied their joined hands as her heart returned to a normal and healthier pace. "Did we really just do that?" she whispered, laughing from her euphoria.

He laughed too. "I think we did," he said quietly. "But I may need a refresher."

"Slow down there, I need to regain my strength," she giggled. He buried his head in her chest, her hands moving to stroke his hair that was shaggier than normal. "What now?" she asked.

He took it as a rhetorical question because he never answered her. "America, I should tell you that if anything ever happens to me, I've left your name with the advisers to be ruler."

She sat up. "You what?"

"I don't trust my cousins to take over. They know the standard procedures but they have very little experience." He kissed her hand. "I trust you. I know that the country won't fall apart with you as queen." He stroked a hand up and down her bare back, making her shiver.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

He looked away for a few minutes and then looked back to her. "Because I don't want you to be blindsided should that ever happen. I want you to be prepared."

"I'm hardly prepared. How do I have more experience than your cousins?"

"You'd be surprised how much you learned just by living in the palace," he said. "It'll be okay, I promise." She laid back down, resting her head on his chest.

She pouted. "I get so scared when you say stuff like that."

"It had to be said though," he mumbled as she drifted to sleep.

The next morning she woke up stiff and crampy. She left Maxon to sleep in her bed as she climbed out and went to the kitchen to make coffee. He soon joined her and kissed her neck lightly. "Maybe, before I leave, we can have a do-over of last night," he suggested.

She shook her head and smiled. "No breakfast?"

"I should be leaving. No time for food."

"But you have time to make love to me?" she questioned. "That makes total sense."

He snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her. "I'm going to shower. You're welcome to join me," he offered.

"I have work to do that I was supposed to do last night and then I have to go to work today," she reminded him. "My hours aren't as flexible as yours." She poked a finger in his chest. "Go shower. I'll be fine."

They ended up leaving but they agreed that for the sake of appearances, it'd be safer for him to leave after her. They kissed in the hallway before she left. "You'll call me, right?" she checked with him.

"Every day," he promised. She knew that it wouldn't be every day but he would try his hardest to call her at least every other day. She didn't mind because she knew that she would still be on his mind.

**So this was just a quick chapter. I see like, three, maybe four chapters left of this. That's including an epilogue. Let me know what you guys thought!**


	49. Chapter 49

"_Distance sometimes lets you know who's worth keeping and who's worth letting go." – Lana del Ray_

* * *

The next week, everything started to fall apart. It was a slow process. It took days to come to the pinnacle but it felt like years. So much happened in that time. It was like a rope, holding the country up and keeping it from going to hell, and every day a string in that rope snapped.

The first day of the end America was called into the principal's office to discuss her job and her future in the school. Principal Coors sat behind his desk with a sad look in his eyes. "I already know what you're going to say, so please spare me," she said, sitting down in a chair facing him.

He shook his head. "It all comes down to money. Music isn't an important class when it comes to college and the overall report of the school."

"So you're firing us? Just like that? What about the rest of the year?" she asked.

"You'll finish out the year, don't worry. And we do have career opportunities for you here in the school. There will be an open spot for a secretary in the office."

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to be a secretary; I want to teach music. Music is so important to these kids. It teaches them to look at the world differently and allows them to think on a totally different level. How many students used music in their personal statements for college applications?" she challenged, knowing that a number of students mentioned doing that.

"I'm sorry Miss Singer…"

She quickly cut him off. "It's Lady America, Mr. Coors."

"Lady America, I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. Sure, students used music for their personal statements but they're not pursuing music. It's a dying field. No one is willing to be a Five." He sighed patiently.

She stood up to dismiss herself. "You know, if it really is dying, which I doubt is true, that's a shame because music is so much more than someone playing and instrument or singing a bunch of notes. It's chemical, electric, it's in the air all around us. You can get rid of me, but you can't get rid of that." She stormed out of the office.

The meeting had taken up most of her lunch time so she waited until she got home to eat. She turned on her TV and went to the kitchen to heat up her now cold sandwich she had packed. Then her TV grabbed her attention. A newscaster for the news program was doing an emergency broadcast and had a grave look on his face.

She quickly grabbed her remote and turned the volume up. "…the city has been officially closed and cut off from the rest of the country," his voice droned on. "There has been word of the royal family preparing to leave but there has been no confirmation that those rumors are true. Though a number of buildings surrounding the palace were damaged, the palace itself was not hit by any of the bombings which started early this morning if you are just now joining us. Again, here's the live image of Angeles, a city now under occupancy of the New Asian army." The picture of the newscaster cut to a very different picture.

It resembled ones she had seen in her textbooks when she was learning about the Third World War. People were wandering the gray and dusty streets, searching for loved ones. Whole buildings were leveled and rubble made the roads impassable. They cut to an image of the palace, standing strong amidst the destruction.

"I have to get to Angeles," she whispered to herself, instantly worried for Maxon and Queen Amberly and Marlee and her maids.

She packed some clothes in her backpack and set out to the train station. Family members of people in Angeles were trying desperately to buy the last tickets on the train to the capitol city. She got to the ticket counter after practically mowing down the people swarmed in front. "I need one ticket to Angeles," she told the ticketer.

She shook her head. "Sorry, there are no trains in or out of the capitol. It's been shut down."

America rolled her eyes. "Then I'll take a ticket to Dakota."

She sighed, knowing that America was going to try to get to Angeles but she took her money and gave her the ticket anyway. America dashed to the platform and boarded the crowded train, getting a row of seats to herself. They were playing the news program on the small TVs in the car. There were no more bombings from New Asia since earlier that morning but the Illéan army was on standby at the borders of the country, waiting to attack.

What was Maxon doing now? America could picture him in his study with war advisers and generals surrounding him, flurrying in and out as he issued orders. He would be pacing because he could never sit still while doing business, she knew that as well as his parents knew that. Twenty miles out from the station in Dakota, the train stopped at a small town's station. After sitting for several minutes America knew that they weren't just making a pit stop there.

She looked up at the TV and the newscaster, the same one from before, was reporting that all public transportation…planes, trains, buses…had been stopped. She cursed and grabbed her backpack, dashing off of the train.

The town was dusty and looked deserted but people were hiding in their homes, their worried eyes viewable from slats in their blinds of windows. Other train passengers were knocking on doors, asking for somewhere to stay but America was looking for something much different. She had never learned how to jump start a car but she found a motorcycle with the keys still in the ignition. She checked the gas gauge and there was enough left in it to get her to Angeles. She could probably get to Canada if need be.

She slid the black helmet on her head and drove off, letting the wind toss her hair over her shoulders. Kota had explained briefly how to drive one and she kept his words in mind as she tore across the hot, midday asphalt in the dusty plains. Lines of cars were trying to get into Angeles but they were all stopped. Some people had just gotten out, abandoning their cars on the road to try to walk. Other people on motorcycles, as well as America, were cutting straight through the rows and blowing past the cars leaving a trail of exhaust and carbon dioxide in their paths.

But at the gates of the city the motorcycles stopped. The palace was at the heart of the city but there could be ways to enter it even a mile away from it. If there were tunnels within the palace walls, there had to be tunnels outside the palace walls for the royal family to use to get out underground. She could just see it in her head, tunnels extending out from underneath the palace like the roots of a great tree.

She pulled the motorcycle off of the road and started to circle the city. She made it to the south west gate and could see trees. She knew the grounds, the forest within the grounds, of the palace extended to the fence there. That was the first place for her to check for any tunnels. Everything looked normal though. There weren't any guards in sight either.

There was a branch hanging over the fence that she could probably climb onto if she jumped off the motorcycle. It wasn't a stunt meant for heeled boots but she had to try. With one great leap, her hands wrapped around the bark and she could pull herself up. She kept the helmet on for the purpose of remaining unrecognizable.

Running through the forest, she prayed that no more bombings would happen in the half hour of running she'd have to do to get to the palace. Halfway through the realized that she probably tripped some alarm for intrusion but the guards were so busy with the New Asians that one person wouldn't be their primary concern.

It was getting dark when she finally saw the great lights of the palace through the trees. She slid the helmet off, letting her sweaty skin breathe, and left it at the foot of a tree in case she needed it again. She walked through the gardens, knowing them like the back of her hand. When she got to the doors, there were twice as many guards there as normal. But Aspen was one of them.

He tried to hide his surprise of seeing her but he couldn't quite stifle his gasp. The other guards were instantly alerted by his noise but when they recognized Lady America they looked confused. "You have to let me in," she ordered.

"How'd you get on the grounds?" Aspen asked her.

"It's a long story but I have to get in and see Maxon."

Another guard stepped up. "Why do you have to see King Maxon so badly?" he asked. "How do we know you're not a puppet from the New Asians?"

She was about to answer but Aspen grabbed her and pointed to the sky. "Bombers! They're back!" he shouted to the other guards. She looked up and saw planes littering the sky. They opened the doors and shoved her inside.

"Alert the king and queen!" another guard yelled.

"Where do we go?" she asked Aspen, who was drawing his sword with a steady hand.

He looked lost. "There's no safe place to go." His eyes were filled with panic, an expression she had never seen on his face. "Run up to meet Maxon in his study, he'll know where to put you."

She took off for the second floor as the rebel alarm sounded as well as alarms echoing through the city. When she had made it to the second floor, her legs were aching and her lungs couldn't fill with enough air. But Maxon was there, just exiting the doors to his study. Queen Amberly was holding on to his arm with tears in her eyes.

The bombs that had been shaking the palace and city for the ten minutes prior had finally stopped and the palace was left in an eerie silence. "Maxon!" she yelled, grabbing his attention.

They were two hundred feet apart, an easy distance but America couldn't run anymore. Maxon swiveled and saw her. He let go of his mother and ran for her.

Halfway to her, the New Asian soldier jumped out from behind the tapestry hanging on the wall and shot his gun in the air. Maxon fell, and the potted plant behind America exploded.

**Aaahhh! What's going to happen?! Please review!**


	50. Chapter 50

_"Little girls with dreams become women with visions."_

She couldn't hear. The air was muted by a ringing in her head that matched the pain there. Dust was everywhere, only allowing her to see a few feet in front of her. She could feel heat at her feet and saw fire, just small flames that would naturally extinguish themselves in the thick Turkish rug they were licking. As her hearing was gradually restored, she pulled herself up on her elbows, assessing the damage done to her body. She couldn't find anything too awful, just a gash on her right calf muscle and a knot on the back of her head. Someone nearby was groaning.

She did a military-style crawl in their direction, recognizing Maxon first by his nice shoes he was wearing. She crawled up to kneel over his head. He'd been hit in the shoulder by the bullet and was bleeding profusely from the spot and had a scrape marring his beautiful face on the right side. "Maxon..." She breathed, stroking his hair back. She heard someone crying and queen Amberly ran to them as the dust started to settle. She knelt on the other side of Maxon.

"Son, are you okay?" She asked, resting her hands on his chest and stomach.

He groaned. "I was shot. He shot me," he mumbled.

"You're okay, you'll be okay," America assured him as she tore at his shirt by his bullet wound. She dug her fingers into his flesh, taking the queen off guard as she did so. Maxon cried out as she poked a finger into his muscles but she couldn't find the bullet. In fact, the spot felt cold. What limited knowledge she had of bullet wounds told her that the spot should be warm. What had he been shot with? He barely had an exit wound as it was but her fingers were stretching it out.

"We have to get help," she informed the queen. "Where's the shooter?" She asked, looking around them. She found the man lying in a crumpled heap on the floor with blood leaking from his head. "Never mind."

Guards came running around the corner, shouting orders to each other. Aspen was among them. "Mer! Are you okay?"

"Did he just call you Mer?" Maxon asked, picking his head up from the ground. She supported it with her hand and ignored aspens question

"I'll explain later. We're going to get you to the doctor." She said, signaling to the guards to help her lift him. When she looked back his eyes were closed and his breathing had stopped. "Maxon! Maxon, come back! Guards, move, c'mon!" She ordered, still holding his head in her hand as Aspen lifted him easily off the ground. They practically ran down to the hospital. Outside the doors, Amberly grabbed her elbow and held her back.

"Why did that guard call you Mer?" She demanded, a fierce look in her eyes.

"It's hard to explain..." She stammered.

Amberly huffed. "It can't be too difficult. Just tell me, have you been in an affair with that man?"

"Your Majesty, I love your son. Aspen is far in my past at this point. I would never dream of hurting your son that way." America defended. She went into the hospital but was immediately pushed out by Aspen. She only got a fleeting glance at a doctor slipping an oxygen mask over Maxons mouth a retrieving shock paddles. She heard someone mention cardiac arrest. "No! No! Don't make me leave! I can't leave him!" She fought against aspens strong hold on her.

"Mer! Mer...America Singer! Go see the doctor right now, you need help." He ordered her, trying to hold her still.

She shook her head and held back her tears. "No, he needs me. He needs me." She kept babbling on, repeating her pleas to anyone who would listen. "I'm fine!" She snapped at aspen. She felt a sharp jab in her arm, and seconds later everything went dark.

* * *

When she woke, her body felt stuff as a board. Stretching her neck by moving it side to side, she looked over at the bed next to hers and saw Maxon lying there with several tubes inserted in different places of his body. She tried to find her voice and it took a few tries for her to whisper Maxons name.

He surprised her by moving. He turned his head to look at her and reached out his hand, tugging on more tubes. She was alarmed by his white pallor and the purple bags under his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but then shut it, obviously deciding not to talk. If he felt anything like how she felt, she understood if he didn't want to talk. "Maxon I'm so sorry." She said hoarsely.

He frowned. "For what?" He barely whispered.

"This is all my fault," she said sadly.

He shook his head slightly. "Not even close. It's that bastard who shot me."

He had little to say so she let it drop. The doctor came to stand by her bed to check on her anyway.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, checking the monitors next to her bed and scribbling stuff down on his clipboard.

She tried to shrug. "Like a ton of bricks that got hit by a truck."

He chuckled. "Well you're lucky you didn't lose a limb or need to lose a limb. The worse you had was a piece of shrapnel stuck in the gash in your leg and a mild concussion. Nothing life-threatening."

She frowned. "Darn," she said sarcastically.

The doctor pulled the curtain over, separating her view of Maxon. "Lady America, I do need to talk to you of a matter that is a bit delicate."

She tried to sit up a bit straighter. "What is it? Is it Maxon?" She asked, her heart clenching.

He shook his head. "No, no...it isn't Maxon. Now, you should know that we've had you sedated medically for about a week. We've run several blood tests over the course of that time but something came up in our most recent tests. Lady America, you may be pregnant."

"What?" She exclaimed. He was talking quietly so she doubted Maxon heard him but her exclamation probably grabbed his attention.

The doctor sighed. "When was your last ovulation cycle?"

She did the math. "Five weeks. Hole crap," she sighed, burying her face in her hands. "But, before two weeks ago id never ever had sex. Can it really happen that fast?"

He nodded. "Now, it's still early on so there's time for your body to reject it still but with each day it's more unlikely. I believe though, that congratulations are in order. Would you like a phone to call the father?"

"I don't need a phone," she mumbled, eyeing the plain green curtain between her and Maxon. "I'll tell the father; I just need time to absorb this."

He nodded. "Of course. I'll leave you to your thoughts. If you have any questions, I helped Amberly with all of her pregnancies so I would be glad to assist you as well." With that said he was gone. He left the curtain drawn though so there'd be no chance for America to talk to Maxon until another doctor came and she could ask them to move it.

She touched a hand to her lower stomach, just below her navel. "Wow," she breathed to herself. There was a human being inside her. It didn't exactly exist yet but in a matter of weeks...in months shed be a mother. The mother to the heir of Illéa.

About an hour later a doctor pulled the curtain back but it was night time and the hospital was dark. America flipped to her side and looked over at Maxon, wishing more than anything that she could curl up next to him. Queen Amberly was sitting by his side with a tired, pathetic face. She lacked her usual vibrant and regal aura. She looked like a concerned and frightened mother.

Maxon had an oxygen mask on again. America sat up, drawing attention to herself. Amberly looked up and let out a sob as she walked over to America's bed. She held America in a motherly embrace, her tears falling into Americas hair. She pulled back sooner than she expected. "The outlook on his life is grim America," Amberly told her, perching on the edge of the bed.

America looked away, tears filling her eyes despite her already concluding that much. "What's wrong?" She asked bravely.

Amberly sighed. "When he was shot, it was by a frozen blood bullet. The bullet melted into his bloodstream and it was made by a different type of blood than his and now he has a blood infection. Two hundred years ago, he'd be out of the hospital in days. But now...we don't have the same kind of medicine and I just want to save my only son and the doctors won't tell me anything about his future because they don't know themselves. He has good days where he'll be okay and talk for a few minutes but then has bad days where it's all the doctors can do to keep him alive."

America gathered what was left of her courage. "Queen Amberly? I think you should know...that I'm pregnant."

Her head snapped away from looking at Maxon to look at America. She smiled. "That's wonderful."

"You're not worried over who the father is?"

"It's Maxon, I know," she laughed.

America frowned. "How?"

She smiled wider. "We received word about two weeks ago that the bombers were coming. The same day Maxon took off to Carolina. He wanted to take you and run off to some secret location but he knew he couldn't do that so he got to thinking, if I can't bring her with me, then what can I do to ensure that when I'm dead, she'll still have a part of me?"

"Wait, he had it all planned?" America didn't know to feel enraged and saddened by the place he had put her in.

Amberly nodded. "He knows that having an heir is possibly the most important part of his job as king. You're going to be queen once you're recovered so why not have an heir?"

"Maxon did mention that if something ever happened to him he wanted me to rule. I thought he was just being his taciturn self but now I see why he was telling me that. Why didn't you stop the planes?" she asked.

"That's confidential information that you're going to learn later. As queen you'll learn that some things mustn't be said outside the studies." She laughed. "A lesson my son never quite learned when it came to you." She smiled fondly and patted America's leg. "Take care of yourself America." She stood and walked out of the hospital, probably to turn in for the night.

America laid back in her bed, her head swimming. She looked over at Maxon again and listened to his breathing and the heart monitor, letting them lull her to sleep.

**I apologize for any typos or grammar mistakes in this because I was typing it on my phone. Anyway, can you tell I haven't had school these past couple days with my updates coming so fast? Lol. Please review!**


	51. Chapter 51

"_Every statistic that you throw at me is gonna be about other people. I don't care about other people, ok? I care about you and me. If every marriage failed except for one, I guarantee that it would be ours." – Boy Meets World_

* * *

America clutched the side of the toilet, waiting for the heaving to stop. She sobbed a bit from being tired of dealing with morning sickness. She got a drink of water and brushed her teeth. Her maids were bustling around the Princess Suite, dusting everything even though they dusted the day before. They curtsied when she walked into her room to her closet. She stared at her clothes and sighed. "What am I going to wear? Everything is already getting tight on me," she complained, poking through the dresses.

Lucy threw an arm around America's shoulders and said, "Well, it's a good thing then that we designed you a new dress. One that is more flexible for a changing figure."

America gasped. "Really?"

Mary smiled sweetly. "Queen Amberly sought us out and informed us that you'd need new dresses but you would need roomy dresses because you'd grow so fast. We're working on several other dresses right now." She paused. "Including your coronation dress."

"No." America shook her head. "No coronation. Not until Maxon gets better and can be there with me."

"Lady America…"

She quickly cut Lucy off. "Find me something to wear," she snapped, practically running into her dressing room. Mary emerged with a dress in her arms. They dressed America in silence and with the new dress America felt like she finally had room to breathe. At least she could still see her toes.

Before heading to the study that had been temporarily appointed as hers, America walked down to the hospital. Maxon was still asleep but he didn't have the oxygen mask on which was a good sign. With more than a month since the attack, the hospital was vacant again except for Maxon. They were waiting for his condition to improve enough for him to move up to his room where he'd be more comfortable.

She slipped the dead flowers out of the vase next to his bed and put new ones in. As she turned to go throw out the other flowers, his hand closed around her wrist. "Hey," he breathed out, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Laying the dead flowers on the empty bed behind her, she perched on Maxon's bed with his hand still secure in hers. "Hey. It's so good to hear your voice," she whispered, wiping a hand down the side of his face. He only had a slight scar from the scratch he'd had but it was barely noticeable.

"How long was I out this time?" he asked, coughing quietly.

"A few days." She tried to sound nonchalant but worry still crept into her voice. "Give me your hand," she instructed, making him work for it himself. He placed his hand in hers and she guided it to her stomach. "He's getting bigger," she told him. "My maids have to make me new dresses."

He smiled. "I'm missing so much," he complained and started to sit up but quickly gave up. "Before I know it, he'll be here."

She shook her head. "You'll be by my side when that day comes. I know it. You're getting so much better. The doctor said that if you keep progressing like this, you can move back into your room in a week or so."

"How's work?" he asked, changing the subject from himself like normal.

She shrugged. "Today your mom and I are going into town to check up on the recovery efforts. I know that great strives have been made but there are still a lot of people living in the shelters. I'm trying to funnel money into building better tenement structures but the advisers aren't really listening to me."

"They should be," he said, a hint of anger detectable in his voice. "You're the princess, acting as partial king for me. Tell them that I approve your plan wholeheartedly." He paused. "And what news of New Asia?"

She hesitated. "The bomb seems to have extinguished their resistance."

He nodded and folded his fingers through hers, understanding her pain with the subject. "I know you didn't want to send that nuclear bomb but it was the preapproved plan from my father."

"Your father isn't ruling anymore. Why are we still using his plans?"

"Shh, okay okay. I know, you're right. When I'm back in charge, there will be major changes. I promise you that." He raised his eyebrows at her and she nodded, complying.

While touring the city, Amberly and America met with the lead architect of the tenements and went on a tour of the structures. The framework for the first two floors of each structure were up but nothing else. America couldn't imagine the families of six living in the tiny apartments that were half the size of her bedroom at the palace.

"Bruce, where are the bathrooms?" she asked the architect.

He seemed taken aback by the question. "Well, they're not on your floor plans because they're outside in the alley between buildings."

She held up a hand. "Wait, you said the bathrooms are outside in the alley? I'm sorry, but that is just awful. What about pregnant women living on the fourth floor? Children, adults that are ill…they may as well not having any kind of sewage facilities." She looked over at Amberly, who was nodding. "How much would it be to build communal bathrooms on each floor?" she asked Bruce.

"Each floor? But…we've always built the tenements like this. Ever since King Clarkson had them designed and built," Bruce argued.

She shook her head. "I'm in charge now, so I get to approve the design. Now, answer my question: how much will it cost?"

"I believe around five-hundred thousand," he guessed.

Queen Amberly nodded and sighed. "Well, we will have to discuss it with the advisers but we can do some reorganizing to see that we get the money necessary for such renovations. We have a budget meeting scheduled for tomorrow and I think it's time our young princess really stretches her legs," the queen beamed at America.

America blushed. "So that works for you, Bruce?" she checked.

He nodded. "Anything for you fine women," he bowed graciously. "Now if you excuse me, I have some new floor plans to draw up."

They drove back to the palace and America's first stop was the hospital where she immediately told Maxon about her meeting with Bruce. "I mean, it was the first thing I really got a say in. I could really feel the power. He just submitted so easily, there was very little debate. Your mom really helped with that but still, it was all my idea," she babbled, smiling proudly at her love.

He smiled back at her and sat up a bit. "I'm proud of you." He held her hand tightly, running his thumb over the smooth skin. "I have exciting news too though."

She sat up straighter and cocked her head. "Like what?"

"Dr. Macky approved my returning back to work part-time in two weeks' time. He also said that I can move into our room on Wednesday," he announced.

"No way! That's two days, sooner than they said. You must have impressed them with your quick recovery time," I boasted for him.

He smirked and squeezed her hand. "I love you," he whispered.

She was about to answer when Dr. Macky came in. "Princess, I need to talk to you for a few moments," he said, hovering.

She smiled sadly and kissed Maxon briefly. "I'll be right back," she promised. "Don't go anywhere." She followed Dr. Macky into his office and suddenly felt the walls closing in. She thought of the fictional America she had created and how she and Maxon were in this very office when they found out the news of their sick daughter.

"Princess, I was hoping to do this with Queen Amberly here with you but I've been told she's busy right now so I will trust you to pass on the news," he said, sitting down in the chair by his desk. He slid on his glasses and looked over papers on a clipboard in front of him. "Now, I'm afraid, that I don't have very good news concerning Maxon."

She frowned. "Wait, but he told me that you had cleared him to work and move back to our room soon. How can that not be good?"

He sighed. "Princess America, when King Maxon was shot, the shoot wasn't aiming for a kill; he was aiming for a handicap. He used frozen blood bullets, which you've been told and also that the two types of blood are battling for dominance. Well, even though Maxon looks healthy and may even feel healthy, eventually the infection will win out. His brain will fail and he'll die."

She was shaking her head. The walls were definitely closing in on her. "There's no way. Can't you do an operation or something? There has to be a way to save him!"

"I'm afraid that our technology in medicine isn't advanced enough. We'd need money to be able to perform any kind of operation to save him. It would be difficult too, with no guarantee that it would work. We'd have to separate two different blood types in extremely sensitive areas of the body. It would be a challenge."

"How much time, Doctor?" she asked slowly.

"Time?" he repeated.

"Time to live!" she exclaimed suddenly. "How much time does he have left?"

He deliberated. "Anywhere from ten days to ten years. He's strong but his body can only fight the inevitable for so long."

She suddenly wanted to go drop a few more nuclear bombs on New Asia. After throwing up. Ten days to ten years was a big window with so much left open still to happen. In such a dangerous position, there was no guarantee she'd be alive in ten years.

"I recommend," Dr. Macky spoke slowly and deliberately, "that you two do whatever you want or need to do sooner, rather than later. I told him all of this earlier today and he agreed that I should be the one to tell you. Enjoy your time together."

She left his office with tears in her eyes. She wiped at them, willing herself to stay strong for Maxon. She sat back down next to his bed. He was asleep, or at least dozing. Either way, he didn't notice her presence. She sat with him until she could no longer suppress her tears so she went to her bedroom and sobbed.

**I'm sorry it's been a bit longer since I updated. I've had a rough few days but it's all good now. – Thumbs up – Hope y'all are having a good week!**


	52. Chapter 52

"_Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder." – Rumi_

* * *

America let Maxon lean on her as he needed as she led him into what would now be their bedroom. He sighed in content, this being his first time in his room in over a month. "I do love you, but I've missed my cameras more than anything," he said as he walked over to the bookcase where he kept all of his cameras. He then moved over and looked at all of his pictures hanging on the wall that he had taken. He pointed to one. "I don't remember hanging this one."

She smiled and walked up to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders with her face pressed against his arm. They gazed at the picture taken of their child, growing safely inside of America. "I wanted to surprise you. I thought this would be a nice house-warming present for you, even though I'm really the one moving in here."

He laughed. "I love it. Thank you." He pecked her on the lips quickly before going over to inspect the temporary desk that was set up in the corner of the room. His most important books were beside it with all of the folders and documents he would need neatly organized in the drawers. "You've worked hard to make me comfortable here. Like I'm some kind of invalid," he scoffed.

She shook her head and looked at him from across the desk. "I don't want you to overwork yourself," she admitted, knowing that telling him the truth would be better than withholding it.

"I'm not going to die from working too hard. Like it or not, this infection is part of me now." He walked purposefully over his other bookshelves and pulled a book down. "You forgot this one," he mumbled, flashing the cover toward her so she could see it.

"I'll have the money for the surgery you need in a couple days. After that, everything can go back to normal," she said quietly.

He frowned at her. "Where are you getting that kind of money from?"

"It's the money we were allocating to the tenements. I thought this would be a better cause." As she finished talking, he was already shaking his head and approaching her.

"I'm not going to let you use that money on me," he refused.

She snorted. "That's a shame, because I am using it on you." She crossed her arms.

"No. Ames, the tenements are your baby, you worked so hard to get the extra money to them and I'm not going to let you waste it on a surgery that won't even work!" He gripped her shoulders painfully. "Please, listen to me. You can't fix this, no one can. I'm going to die and the sooner you get over that, the sooner we can move on with our lives."

Tears welled in her eyes. "It's not fair."

"I don't care if you think it is unfair! I'm king and I give final word on where money goes and if you think I'll approve it for myself, you're clearly delusional." He was upset and she couldn't blame him.

She took a step back as if he had slapped her. "I wanted this to be a happy day," she whispered. She perched on the edge of the bed, looking at her shoes and refusing to cry. He stayed where he was, the distance between them like an ocean. She wanted to close it, to swim to him and kiss and make it better but nothing would make it better, he was right – no matter what anyone did they were at nature's mercy.

He finally sighed and stood at the end of the bed, looking at her. Then he sat down beside her, tentatively taking her hand in his. "You know what I want to do? I want to watch our child grow and help raise them, maybe have another baby in the future. I want to see this country thrive and succeed with you as their leader. And more than anything, I want to love you. I want to love you every day, how many days I have left, and I want to be with you until my dying day. Come what may, I love you and want to spend my life with you." When she didn't answer aside from giving a choked sob, he reached across her and pulled a box off of the table by the bed. He opened it and slid down on one knee.

"America Singer, marry me and I promise I will be with you in life, death, and whatever comes after. Please, marry me." Her lip quivered as tears threatened to overwhelm her. "And don't ever think of putting me before the people because you're queen and no matter what happens to me, you are their ruler and they need you more than you need me."

She finally relented and let him hug her, her tears soaking into the shoulder of his shirt. She clutched onto his shirt, feeling the solidity of him underneath and letting it sink into her bones and into her memory.

It was several moments before he spoke again. "You still haven't answered me."

She laughed and pulled away to look at him closely. "Yes, a thousand times yes. Yes, yes, yes."

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present you with King Maxon Schreave and Princess America Schreave," Gavril announced, his voice echoing through the public square of Angeles. America and Maxon stood behind the glass doors where they would enter the square from. She adjusted his sash as he swept away at her flyaway hairs. She smiled at him confidently when he adjusted her heavy sash and paused to run a hand over the bulge of their growing child that was still barely noticeable.

"I love you wife," he whispered to her as they waited for their cue to enter.

She laughed at her new title. "And I love you husband." She grinned at him proudly as the trumpets sounded their arrival. Maxon took their last few seconds of privacy to kiss the back of her hand and to transform from husband to King Maxon.

They stepped out in the brilliant sunlight and were welcomed by the cheers of the crowd. America smiled despite the light that was blinding her. She waved to the people and nodded to them cordially, having practiced for this very moment for days. She peeked at her husband and caught him looking at her also. They pecked each other quickly on the lips and then returned their attention to the crowd.

There were people of all ages. She saw a girl sitting on who America assumed her father's shoulders, waving the Illéan flag and smiling wide, with her two front teeth missing. America laughed a little at that. Past the square stood the new storefronts that architects had worked on tirelessly to ensure they'd be done in time for this day. Past the storefronts she could see the roof of the tenements, looking new and clean and with their sanitation lines running through the walls, making all of the tenants' lives easier and more comfortable.

The camera crews were filming away from their towers amongst the crowd. There was no doubt in her mind that every citizen in the country was watching them at that exact moment. After being on the balcony for about five minutes, they were ushered back inside and permitted to go back to their wedding reception.

The spokesman in the ballroom introduced their entrance and that they would be dancing the first dance. They assumed the proper position to start in and Maxon winked at her. "You'll be fine," he whispered to her, reading the fear in her eyes from having to dance in front of so many people.

She shook her head. "I don't know how I feel about dancing with someone who's armed."

He glanced down to the sword hanging off his hip. "Safety first." He winked again. She laughed aloud as he started to lead her across the floor. She wasn't awful at dancing but compared to Maxon who'd been doing these dances his entire life, she looked like an elephant with an extra foot. But he somehow managed to make her look her best whenever encountered with a similar situation as this.

Finally, the dance was over and America felt like she could breathe freely again. She and Maxon took their seats by his mother and her mother. They sat and watched other couples dance, including May and a young guard that had just arrived at the palace a few weeks before but they'd been inseparable ever since.

America looked over at her husband and knew, without a doubt, he had made her the happiest person on earth.

**I know this chapter started kind of weird but I'm trying my best to update. I mean, I already have homework plus college applications plus stuff for clubs that I'm president in so really, I am trying my best and devoting at least twenty minutes to you guys every day. Seriously, the reviews keep me going. They're awesome, so keep on giving!...Please.**


	53. Chapter 53

"_Not one drop of your self-worth depends on your acceptance of me."_

* * *

Maxon woke up the next morning, instinctively seeking out his wife under the sea of blankets in their bed. He pulled her closer, feeling the swell of their child press into his hip. He studied America's sleeping form as she settled deeper into the mattress and into her husband's arms. As Maxon's eyes started to slip closed again, he felt something hit his hip.

His eyes flashed open and he looked, only to feel the jab again. Realization came upon him and he instantly was overwhelmed with emotion. Tentatively, not wanting to wake America, he spread his palm over her stomach and felt their child move beneath his hand. It only lasted a few minutes but he was finally able to tear his eyes away from his hand and look back at America's face nestled on his shoulder. Her eyes were open and staring deeply into his.

She reached a hand up to wipe a tear off his cheek that he didn't even know was there. "I've been feeling him for a week now but I was never near enough to you or in an appropriate setting for you to feel too," she whispered gently.

He smiled and kissed her. "Him?" he repeated.

"Just a guess. An educated guess from my mother and sister but I really don't have a preference. I suppose a son would be best so we can have an heir." She shrugged again. "And so you can name him Christian." She winked at him.

He laughed and rested his chin on her arm. "We don't have to name him Christian."

"No, I like it. It's grown on me."

"What about Abel?"

She rolled her eyes. "It can be a middle name," she sighed.

He sighed too. "Say we have a little princess. What then? Do you still like Elizabeth?"

"You're the father; you deserve some say in this. I want to know what you think we should name our daughter." She wiggled closer to him.

He opened his mouth to answer when their door creaked open slightly and a furry dog jumped up on the bed. The small black dog squeezed between them and started licking their faces in turn. America squealed, not used to having such affectionate dogs around. "What is this?" she demanded, suppressing her laughter.

"It's my Aunt Adele's dog, Poe. He gets out sometimes." He mussed up the curly hair on the top of Poe's hair. "I guess this morning he's our alarm clock." He sighed and stretched as he sat up. He looked over at America and caught her looking at his scars. He blushed. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. My mom once told me that being beautiful isn't about being flawless, it's about accepting your flaws and being proud of them. I can't help but think of that when I look at you because I do find you quite beautiful."

He blushed even more. "C'mon," he sighed, "time to be King Maxon and Princess America, not just Maxon and America."

"King Maxon and Princess America don't get a honeymoon?" she suddenly asked, following him into the bathroom.

He looked at her sadly. "You never brought it up before so I figured you didn't want to have one." In truth, he had one planned and was smoothing out the final details so he could surprise her on her birthday in a few weeks. She looked disappointed though and he had to work really hard to not tell her his plans then. "I'm sorry. Maybe, after the baby…" he proposed, not wanting to promise her too much.

She nodded and put on a brave smile. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed but she still sounded disappointed.

They got dressed and ready for the day separately. Maxon had a valet to take care of his dressing and morning routine and America had her maids. They still ended up wearing coordinating outfits, America in a deep green dress and Maxon wearing khakis and a matching green sweater over a white collared shirt. They slowly made their way down to breakfast, holding hands and not wanting their wedding night to end. More than once they ducked in a room to fulfill their desires briefly.

When they walked into the Dining Hall, everyone stood and curtsied or bowed to them. America still hadn't grown accustomed to that kind of greeting and blushed lightly. They took their seats at opposite ends of the table, as was the custom. America beamed, watching her family and Maxon's family socialize and form a bond that would hopefully last for centuries.

Queen Amberly was sitting to America's left and as they were eating the various courses, she whispered, "I know that you are entertaining your family and friends but I was hoping to meet with some advisers today concerning those plans you had for the education of lower castes."

"Oh, of course. We need to get working now on the budgets and funding if we want to have everything set and ready to go for the school year starting in August," America agreed.

Amberly took a sip of tea. "And how are your plans for Gregory's Day?" she asked. One of the first things she had learned as Princess was that the national holiday, Gregory's Day, took months of preparation. It was still a good five months away but the day always was celebrated with massive parties, parades, and concerts. Typically the royal family would attend magnificent feasts and galas in each province, touring the country for weeks until finally culminating in the grandest ball of the country in Angeles at the palace but America and Maxon decided to forego tradition. They quickly did the math and realized that they'd either have a small child to take care of right around that time or she would be heavily pregnant.

"Well, I was thinking, in honor of our most recent alliances with Italy, we invite their royal family here and have a huge Italian festival. We could invite our other allies such as the German Federation and Swiss-Austria. We hold it out in the gardens, with the Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra playing and some Italian musicians. Food, the finest wines…Maxon loves the idea," America informed the queen. "I'll try to have everything planned and settled a few weeks beforehand because who knows when the baby will arrive."

Her mother-in-law laughed and they both looked down the other end of the table to Maxon. He was talking to his father-in-law and caught them staring. He smiled at America and tugged his ear. She tugged hers back. They didn't do it as a sign of communication anymore as much as they just did it as a sign of affection.

"There's something else I'd like to discuss with you, Queen Amberly," America prompted. She noticed from her side that her mother was watching her proudly. "I was wondering if we could perhaps promote Marlee Tames as well as Carter Woodwork. I believe they are both very deserving of a better position."

Amberly considered. "Have you spoken to Maxon about it?"

"Only in passing. But I know he'll support it," she said confidently. "I know that what they did was wrong but they are in love. They deserve to be happy and have a good life, even as Sixes."

"I'll consider it but that's all I'm promising. You see America, I know how dearly you care for Marlee but if you make exceptions for her you'll have to make exceptions for everyone. I understand that they both work very hard in their jobs but like I said, they have to be punished." She glanced at Maxon again, who was reading a newspaper that had just been delivered to him. "My son has been lenient enough with them. First sparing their lives, then allowing them to be Sixes, not Eights. They should be more than content."

America nodded. A maid put a newspaper down in front of both her and Queen Amberly. "Miss Turner, I actually would like some of my work folders. If you could bring down my folder on the tenement projects and give this newspaper to my father. He would appreciate it. Thank you." The maid bobbed a quick curtsy.

Maxon laughed loudly as he stood and shook my father's hand, tucking his newspaper under his arm. He walked down to America's end of the table, stopping occasionally to mess with his young cousins. He finally reached America and gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, a kiss on the lips being inappropriate in the public setting. "I have to get to work," he whispered to her, rubbing her hand. "Will you be along as well?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'll see you at noon for our budget meeting."

He laughed. "Whoopee," he said sarcastically, smiling anyway.

The budget meeting went smoothly, the advisers finally getting used to Maxon's new ideas of how to run the country. He ran the meeting with little protests and fanfare and America was more proud of him with every minute that passed in the meeting.

Following the meeting, they reconvened in Maxon's study. He locked the door behind him and immediately grabbed her in his arms, pushing her against the bookshelves roughly and kissing her passionately. She twisted her fingers into her hair and pulled back for him to kiss down her neck. "Working the day after your wedding sucks," she whispered.

He laughed and his fingers brushed the top of the zipper to her dress. "Agreed," he grumbled into her neck.

"We shouldn't do this. Not here."

"The door is locked and no one can enter without my permission. If they do, I can have them hanged," he laughed and pulled her even closer. "Good day beautiful."

"Good day handsome," she whispered back.

**Okay, I lied before but really mean it now when I say there's three to four chapters left!...okay maybe five. Lol, anyway, please review…and only positive stuff please!**


	54. Chapter 54

"_Rise to the top of the world, America. America don't you cry. Lift me up, give me strength to press on." – Imagine Dragons_

* * *

Maxon carried his wife down the steps, his twenty odd years of traversing those steps the only thing that kept him from missing one and sending them both scrambling. She whimpered against his shoulder. He noted the sheen of sweat developing on her face. "We're almost there," he whispered. "It'll be okay."

In truth he was terrified but he had to be brave for her. They finally arrived at the hospital where Dr. Macky was ready and waiting for them thanks to the guard Maxon had sent down in front of them. The nurses were bustling about, lighting lamps and setting up various machines and medical equipment. "We have a bed prepared for her in here," Dr. Macky ushered them into a small, private room.

The same guard that Maxon had sent to the hospital in front of them was there too. "Officer, go awaken my mother and tell her that the baby is coming."

"Do you want her here sir?"

Maxon considered briefly. "Only at her own decision," he consented. The guard nodded and ran off. Dr. Macky was inserting an IV into America's arm, making her squirm. Maxon brushed her hair back and touched his lips to her hairline. "How long Dr. Macky?"

"Contractions are close together but I'll have to examine her to really give you an accurate time frame. At this point it could be a few hours or an entire day. First time babies are quite stubborn at times," the doctor explained as he wrote a couple things down on his clipboard.

His examination concluded that she was almost ready to deliver. "You said the contractions started around dinner?" he asked Maxon.

"That's when we concluded that they were real contractions, not just the false ones she's been feeling for the past few weeks." Dr. Macky scribbled that down as Maxon checked his watch. Six hours ago. The time seemed to drag as he watched his wife writhe in pain.

He watched the sky get lighter as America's labor progressed. Between contractions, she reached up and put a hand on his face. "You don't have to be so strong," she whispered to her. "You don't have to put on that brave face for me."

"I do actually. It's the only thing keeping me together." He laced his fingers through hers as she braced herself for another contraction.

An hour passed before his mother came down to the hospital and grinned at them. "How are you feeling honey?" she asked America, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Thirsty," America admitted with her arms covering her face.

Amberly grinned and sat down in the chair by the bed. "Maxon, could you get her some more ice? I'll stay here with her," she assured her son as he sighed and stood up to go get ice. "I know you're scared and in pain but you'll look back on today and think of it as one of the best days of your life."

America smiled grimly. "Thank you for being here. It's nice having a mom here with me. Someone that knows what I'm going through."

"Well I'm actually glad that the times have changed enough for Maxon to be here with you. Clarkson was never with able to convince the doctors to let him be there. Not that he tried that hard." She sighed and America could tell that she still felt pity for her husband. "And also, I thought you would appreciate some reinforcements," she said coyly. She nodded to the door.

"Kenna!" America exclaimed, letting her sister run up and hug her. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't really think you were going to do this without me, did you?" she asked. Another contraction came and Amberly decided to excuse herself.

She met Maxon outside the door. She pulled her son in for a hug. "I'm so proud of everything you've done and overcome to get here today," she whispered in his ear.

"Thanks, Mom." He smiled and pulled away. "I am scared," he told her, saying what she already knew.

She nodded. "I know. You probably never thought you'd see this day at one point."

He agreed. "I should get back in there. Are you not staying?" he asked, his hand on the door.

"Today's your day. You don't need me anymore Maxon." She smiled fondly and left.

Maxon walked back into the room and saw Dr. Macky giving another examination. "Good news America: you can start pushing now. Let me just finalize everything with the nurses that will be assisting me, okay?"

She nodded weakly and sank into Maxon's arms. At four o'clock in the morning, their son was born. After he was cleaned and the room had quieted down, Maxon sat next to his wife in the narrow hospital bed with his son in her arms. He held the birth certificate in his hands. "First name...Christian. Last name…Schreave of course. Middle name?" he asked. "He could just not have one. Or maybe Abel…I know you like that name and it goes well with Christian."

"Maxon," she mused, stroking a finger down the newborn's silky cheek.

"Yes?" he answered.

She shook her head and laughed. "Maxon," she said decisively. "As a middle name."

"Christian Maxon Schreave," he mumbled, frowning slightly. It lacked the smooth cadence he'd wanted.

She shook her head again and looked up at him. "No…Christian Maxon Abel Schreave. I know it's a mouthful but…" her voice trailed off.

"But?"

"I don't want to be grim, but I'm not sure how long I'll have you around. I want to ensure that you're memorialized," she admitted.

He nodded and smiled. "Thank you." He kissed her forehead and wrote the name down in his sloppy cursive. He signed his name and then signed America's for her. He'd quickly learned her signature so he could sign documents for her in the event of an emergency and she had done the same for him.

She shifted Christian in her arms and then lifted him to Maxon. He set the paper down and took his son into his arms. She gripped her husband's strong arm and they both stared down at Christian. "The country has an heir," she whispered.

"More importantly, we have a son." Maxon looked down at her. He looked behind her at the orange sky. "Good morning beautiful."

"Good morning handsome."

**I know it's short but I'm kind of speeding it along to get to the ending which is going to be amazing! That's all I'm telling you. Make all the predictions you want, you won't guess the ending. Lol. Review por favor!**


	55. Chapter 55

"_Afterwards, the universe will explode for your pleasure." – Douglas Adams_

* * *

"America, wake up," Maxon whispered to his wife. She groaned and snuggled deeper into her pillow. "Wake up, c'mon."

"No," she refused, burying her face in the cotton pressed beneath her cheek. "I don't want to."

He laughed and reached down to her exposed waist. "Fine, then you leave me no choice…" he said in a menacing tone. As soon as his fingers made contact with the sensitive skin there she laughed and sat up.

"Okay, okay, I'm up!" she exclaimed, rubbing her face with her hands. She looked at him through her fingers and then peeked at the window. "It's too early," she moaned, collapsing back against her pillow.

He tugged on her hands and stood to pull her out of bed. "C'mon, you have a big day today," he reminded her. "An even bigger day tomorrow."

She shook her head. "Don't remind me."

He sighed. "If you don't get up soon, you're going to miss your final dress fitting. And you know what happens when you miss an appointment…" he trailed off, waiting for her to answer. She didn't so he continued, "Silvia comes after you. And when she can't find you she comes after me."

"I had a dress fitting last week. Do I really need another one?" she asked, yawning. He was about to pull her out of bed again when she held up a hand to stop him. She threw her feet over the edge and stretched, standing to go pick up her robe.

He laughed and followed her to her closet where Anne and Lucy were preparing her outfit for the day. He stood against the doorjamb as the inspected her reflection in the mirror. "Where's Christian?" she asked.

"He's eating breakfast with May. Don't worry, he is being well taken care of."

She frowned. "How long has he been up?"

"An hour or so. I got him dressed and showered for you…you're welcome by the way." He smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. "I didn't want to wake you. You need your beauty sleep." He approached her and took her face in both hands to kiss her. "I'll see you at breakfast?"

She nodded. Later that day, they arrived in the massive cathedral where her coronation would be taking place the next day. She thought that there were a lot of rehearsals for her and Maxon's wedding but they were nothing compared to the coronation.

Silvia noticeably relaxed when she saw America walking down the aisle with Christian. "You're late!" she called from the front of the cathedral.

America sighed. "I know, Christian pitched a fit about his toys. Apparently he can play with the toys he got last year for his second birthday now because he's outgrown his old ones." As she explained, a few of Maxon's cousins walked by and she waved to them excitedly. "Really, I tried to be on time."

"And your husband is right behind you, right?" Silvia asked, craning her neck to see past America.

"He decided to do extra work today so he's not bogged down tomorrow or the day after," she told Silvia. "But you don't need him, right?" America knew that Maxon wasn't needed. He really didn't even have to go to her coronation. There was no question about that of course but he was really only going to be a babysitter for Christian. Silvia wanted him there because she had a bit of a crush on him.

She blushed. "Of course, we will do just fine without him!" She clapped and called everyone to order that was decorating and setting up.

Kenna approached America and hugged her. "I guess you want me to keep an eye on him?" Kenna asked, nodding toward the sleeping toddler in America's arms.

She nodded and laughed. "Yes, that would be wonderful." She passed him off to her sister. "Thank you for coming and helping."

Smiling, Kenna said, "Anytime."

Maxon sat in his office going over the columns of numbers he had to get together for the financial meeting he would be having in just a couple days. There was a knock on the door to his study and he allowed them to enter. One of the guards pushed a cameraman in roughly, shoving him toward Maxon.

The king stood. "What is this?" he asked the guard.

The guard, who's nametag said Officer Brixton, said, "Your Majesty, I was just out sending some mail when I saw this man trying to sell a picture to the press. Apparently he got it from palace cameras."

Maxon frowned. "You hacked the system?" he asked the cameraman who shrank away from his sharp gaze.

"It's not what he did, it's what he has. You should take a look at this Your Majesty." Brixton handed over a developed picture.

Maxon took it and studied it, frowning even more. "There's no way this is real," he whispered to himself. He looked back at the cameraman. "What technology did you use on this?"

The man shrugged. "It's a real picture. That's why I was trying to sell it. My family could desperately use the money."

"So you're telling me that my wife is having an affair with this officer?" he demanded. When the cameraman didn't answer he looked to the guard. "Who is this guard?"

"Officer Leger, Sir. Actually, he was shipped off to Fort Kindred several months ago. He hasn't been here since your married Princess Kriss," he explained.

"Which means…" Maxon didn't want to say it. "this was taken during the Selection." He sat down in his chair, for once movement failing in soothing him. "Wait…where was Officer Leger from?"

Brixton considered. "Carolina, I believe." He recognized the coincidence. "That's where Princess America is from."

"She lied," he whispered. He looked up at the cameraman. "Take all of his equipment and pay him off. Make sure he doesn't repeat anything."

Brixton pulled the man out of Maxon's study, leaving Maxon in silence. He buried his face in his hands and started controlled breathing. When that failed, he crumpled up the picture and hurled it into the roaring fire. That didn't help though. That picture would be seared in his brain for the rest of his life, however long that would be.

How much of what she told him had been a lie? There was no other explanation; Officer Leger was her ex. No wonder she had taken so long to accept him; she was seeing her ex on the side.

America was in her study after the rehearsal when one of her assistants went through the invitations to the coronation ball again and questioned her choice in Princess Daphne. "Why not? She's a princess…she should be allowed to come."

The maid bit her lip coyly. "You do not know about her?"

"What about her?" America asked, growing suspicious.

"She and the King had a bit of a fling prior to the Selection."

America gasped. "Excuse me?"

The maid nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. During his birthday party the two were found canoodling in a back hallway. One of the officers told everyone about it."

"He never told me." Anger was starting to boil in America. The maid quickly excused herself. America and Maxon didn't see each other until later that night in their bedroom. They got ready for bed separately, both stewing in their fury at the other. Both sensed the tension but assumed that it was just created from their own personal problems.

America said good night to him coldly as she turned out the lights before he was even done working. He sighed and put away his books and they both fell into a fitful sleep.

**So, not much to say tonight. I'm trying to finish this one quickly because there's a storm coming and I don't want to lose all of this work should the power go out. Please review!**


	56. Chapter 56

"_I feel sure that no girl would go to the altar if she knew all." – Queen Victoria_

* * *

When America woke up the next morning, Maxon had already left. She swallowed her anger that built as soon as she entered consciousness and walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she came out, her maids were already waiting for her in her dressing room.

They were all smiling and gushing about how excited they were for the day. America sat quietly as they started washing her hair in a small sink. When they were in the process of polishing her finished curls, Queen Amberly entered and smiled to her. "Good morning America," she said cheerily, kissing her daughter-in-law on the cheek.

The maids subtly dismissed themselves with quiet curtsies, leaving the two queens alone. America sighed. "I'm glad you're here. My mother hasn't been nearly as soothing as you in this process. I understand that she's excited but I mean…I don't need to be constantly reminded that I'll be queen by the end of today."

Queen Amberly smiled fondly and used the mirror to look at America. She hugged her from behind. "I'm glad I could be of help to you. I love you so much America. You're the daughter I never had."

America hesitated but then asked anyway, "Did you ever know if you were having a daughter?"

Amberly smiled sadly. "My last pregnancy, the one after Maxon, I carried long enough to know that it was a girl. After Maxon, Clarkson and I felt so confident and thought that we had finally been able to have children but after that last miscarriage, we gave up. And in a way, we gave up on each other. Our marriage started crumbling then."

"Your Majesty, is Maxon good friends with a Princess Daphne?"

"Her father and Clarkson were good friends. He's the king of France. I believe Princess Daphne was married off recently but I can't recall who she was married to." Amberly's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

America shrugged. "A maid yesterday just told me that she and Maxon apparently had a fling."

"Maxon and Daphne?" Amberly laughed. "Please, you have nothing to worry about. They saw each other once or twice a year and Maxon just used her as someone he could talk to at state functions. If there was any romance at all between them, it would be from her side, not his."

America nodded. "I was so silly," she whispered. "I got so mad because I'd never heard about it. It sounded so much bigger than that."

"Well, either way it was before the Selection. I doubt they've talked since she was here last time," Amberly assured her, patting her on the shoulder. "Now, I have a present for you." She smiled and led America back into the bedroom where she had left a small box. "On the morning of my coronation, Clarkson's mother gave me this. It's been in their family for decades and has been worn by every Daughter of Illéa since Gregory's wife."

She opened up the small silver box and pulled out a ring. It was silver and patterned to look like a miniature crown. "I stopped wearing it after I had Maxon because it never fit me again but it likes to be your size," she said quietly. "Would you like to put it on?"

America, speechless, nodded and took it. "Middle finger of the right hand, right?" she guessed.

Amberly seemed taken aback. "How did you know?"

"I saw it in a portrait I believe." She took the ring gingerly, afraid to have something with so much history in it in her hands. She could almost feel the power seeping out of the ring and into her bones. She slid it on to her finger and nodded. "Fits perfectly." She held her hand up to the light to look at it.

Amberly checked her watch. "I think it is time for you to put on your dress." She clapped her hands and rang for the maids again.

They helped her into the corseted undergarments. Amberly held the dress in the large wooden box it was kept and preserved it. She unzipped the garment bag and the maids pulled it out. It was a ball gown, with gold and silver embroidered petals forming the skirt. It was a cream color, with light capped sleeves. America felt more like a queen in that dress then she ever had in any other dress.

"I knew that dress would look beautiful on you," Amberly sighed. "In fact, the moment I saw your picture for the Selection I thought, 'My, she would look stunning in the queen's coronation gown.'" She laughed as she helped America put on her shoes.

They left soon after. The ride to the cathedral was brief but people lined the streets, hoping to get a glimpse of their new queen. When she exited the armored car with about a dozen guards surrounding her, the roar of the crowd was deafening.

The final touches to her hair and make-up were made and Silvia retrieved the long drape she'd be wearing. It was made out of mink and was twenty feet long with a deep purple velvet middle. Amberly gave her the small tiara she would wear but would soon be replaced by the large crown only worn during the coronation.

The choirs sand and the bells rang but all America could think about was the absence of her husband. Walking down the center aisle just as she'd practiced fifty billion times, she picked him out of the crowd with Christian in his lap. He pointed her out to their son but his face lacked it's normal effervescence. She pushed the feelings aside, determined to enjoy the day.

Following the coronation, they had two hours until the ball. America went to their bedroom to freshen up and put on more comfortable clothes. As she was dabbing at her face with a wet cloth, a maid entered. "A message for you, ma'am," she announced, holding the silver letter tray out to America.

She smiled and took the letter. She opened up and read it quickly. _America, your immediate presence has been requested in Italy. The princess has had an accident and is not looking very promising to live through the rest of the week. She would like to see you before she passes._ The door behind her opened and she knew immediately what she'd have to do.

Ignoring her husband's entrance, she went to her closet and pulled out a small travel bag. Maxon frowned and stood in the doorway. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"The Italian Princess has requested that I go to Italy as soon as possible," she told him. "Apparently she had an accident and they're not expecting her to live out the week. You're welcome to come with me."

"No," he said coldly.

She was taken aback. "I understand that you're not as close to her as I am but you're good friends with her brother."

He shrugged. "I don't want to go. I'll pay my respects at her funeral. Don't they understand that your coronation is today?"

"They know. I invited them and now I know why they aren't here." She zipped her bag up and threw the strap over her shoulder. He stood in the doorway as she quickly put on a pair of jeans and a sweater. "So you're definitely not coming?"

"I told you; I don't want to go." He pushed away from the door and walked back into the bedroom.

She sighed. "Look, Maxon, I'm sorry about how brash I was with you last night. A maid said something about you and this Daphne girl being a couple before the Selection but I talked to your mom about it and she said that it was an exaggeration. She said that you didn't reciprocate any feelings…if there really were any." He still looked angry. "I just want to leave on a good note."

"A good note?" he repeated. "You're leaving in the middle of your coronation, of course you won't be leaving on a good note!" he exclaimed.

"You don't have to shout," she said quietly.

He laughed and ran a hand down his face. "So, you're just heading off to Italy for the week and leaving me here with Christian and the country to run? You're queen now; you can't just check out whenever you want."

"My friend needs me," she told him. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Wait until morning to leave!"

"She may be dead by then!" she shouted.

He rolled his eyes. "Everyone dies America! It's the circle of life, okay? You being there isn't going to bring a miraculous recovery! If it hasn't happened with me then it won't happen with her."

"How do you know? You're still alive!"

"Get out of your own little world for once and realize that the world is a lot bigger than you seem to think it is! I've seen a lot in my life that you'd never understand. Someone in this country died just in the time we've been having this conversation."

She shook her head. "Are you done now? I'd like to leave."

"Go then," he said in a challenging voice.

"Maybe I'll come back," she mumbled as she slammed the door behind her. She went to Christian's room and hugged him.

"Mommy?" he mumbled. "What's going on?"

She sighed and ran her hands up his back. "Mommy has to go on a trip, okay? Daddy will be taking care of you."

"When are you coming back?" He rubbed his eyes.

"I don't know honey," she answered honestly. She took off her locket that she wore at all times. Inside was a picture of her, Maxon and Christian all together on his second birthday just the week before. "You wanna hold on to this until I get back?" she asked.

He nodded so she slid it over his head. "I'll take good care of it Mommy," he promised, holding it tightly in his little hand.

She smiled sadly and hugged him one last time. She ran her hand through his curly hair and walked out, looking back at him before closing the door softly.

There were guards waiting in the back drive for her in the armored car. She handed one her bag and went to the back seat to get it. With her hand on the handle, about to close the door, she looked up at the lights shining out of the Women's Room. Maxon had snuck in with Christian in his arms, and his eyes were cold as he watched her go. He normally waved goodbye to her when she went on business trips from that window. But there was no waving tonight.

She sat back in her seat and shut the door. "Go ahead, I need to get out of here."

**Two more chapters and then an epilogue! You'll still never see this ending coming! Haha. Please review!**


	57. Chapter 57

"_I don't like the memories because the tears come easily, and once again I break the promise I made to myself today. It's a constant battle. A battle between remembering and forgetting."_

* * *

When America arrived in the airport in Italy, the last person she expected to greet her was Princess Nicoletta herself. That was America's first indication that something was wrong. She slung her bag over her shoulder and embraced the princess tightly. "Nicoletta, I am so glad to see you…but forgive me for being slightly disgruntled. I was led to believe your condition is far graver."

She frowned in confusion. "My condition? Of what are you speaking?"

"The note?" America reminded her. "I received a note saying that your death is imminent. Obviously, I've been misinformed."

"Obviously," Nicoletta said, putting an arm around America's shoulders and leading her from the tar mat. "I was actually confused also as to why you were leaving your country on the day of your coronation."

America sighed. "You're not dying then?"

Nicoletta laughed. "Of course I am!" When America looked alarmed she elaborated. "Every second, every day we all get closer to dying. But I'm not planning on being six feet under for a long time. At least not until after I've been married to a wonderful French man!" she said wistfully.

"I suppose I'll stay for the night then. But you must understand that since the situation isn't dire I'll have to return as soon as possible," America explained.

"Yes, yes, I understand. I've been waiting for this day when you'd come visit my palace here for so long. I opened up the best guest room we have. I can't promise that the bed is any better than yours, or that the maids will be more attentive because I'm sure we're both extremely biased in that respect and can't offer objective opinions."

They rode through the Italian countryside of Italy until they reached the towering stone walls surrounding the palace. Past the walls, there were finely trimmed and sculpted hedges that opened up to reveal the palace. It definitely rivaled her home in grandeur but they could hardly be compared due to the extreme differences in aesthetics.

The corridors were done in old, rustic stone with marble floors and wooden beams in the ceiling. Turkish carpets lined the floors and old oil paintings covered the walls. The maids were actually wearing pants, not dresses. They walked up a grand staircase and down the hallway she could hear the boisterous melody of fellowship.

A large pair of wooden doors opened up into the room where Nicoletta's cousins, brother, and another man and woman she didn't recognize were laughing and drinking wine. "Look who has come to visit!" Nicoletta announced enthusiastically.

Noemi and Orabella bounded up to America and embraced her, engulfing America in an overwhelming hurricane of jumbled words in English and Italian. She laughed, feeling a lot lighter in spirit than she had when she left Illea. Someone handed her a glass of wine as the two cousins led her to the couch.

"Queen America, allow us to introduce you to our cousin's brother, Prince Aldo. He is heir to the Italian throne, of course." Noemi nodded to the woman sitting beside him, half-draped in his lap. "That's his fiancé, Princess Lena of Greece."

Orabella cut in. "It's an advantageous marriage, but we don't know if it is more advantageous for the country or their sexual activity." She laughed, covering it with a long swig of wine.

Luckily the couple was too caught up in their fast-paced Italian conversation to even notice what the girls were saying about them. Nicoletta sat down on the table across from the couch and sat with her legs crossed, her glass of wine propped on her knee. She nodded to the man that had just moved to sit by the piano. "That is my boyfriend," she said quietly, almost sadly. "Sir Geoffrey Sumner from Denmark. He's a pianist, a prodigy."

"Denmark is only a little north of France," America consoled her. "And I'm sure he's a lovely man."

"Oh he is! You should see the jewelry he got her for her birthday last month!" Noemi exclaimed.

"Enough," Nicoletta whispered. "I never did get a chance to ask you about your honeymoon here with Maxon," she said, quickly changing the subject.

With the sour note she had left her husband on, the last thing she wanted to do was recall those euphoric two weeks they spent in the Italian countryside, making love, drinking wine, and preparing for their child's arrival. "It was…nothing short of wonderful," she hedged.

"Tell us more!"

"Yes, do tell us more!" Orabella demanded, leaning in to listen intently.

She rolled her eyes. "Um…" she wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans and ignored the heat that was rising to her cheeks as one vivid memory in particular surfaced in her mind.

_America cracked an egg on the edge of bowl and let the liquid pour into the hot skillet beneath her. Maxon's arms came around her stomach and rubbed the spot where their child was sleeping, safe in his mother's warm cocoon. "Come to bed with me," he whispered in her ear as he kissed the exposed skin behind it. _

"_Your baby needs food," she argued, her laugh coming out breathy. Despite her refusal, her heart was starting to pound and her blood was rushing in her ears. _

_He laughed. "It's two o'clock in the morning." He glanced out the window to the darkened landscape outside. He gently moved her hands out of the way and picked up the skillet, imitating her swirling movement with the eggs and butter. He looked at her from the corner of his eye and grinned mischievously. _

_She conceded. "Fine, I can wait until morning to eat but be prepared to deal with my wrath of food deprivation."_

"You know," Nicoletta cut in in, "I think our guest is tired. I'll show her to her rooms and we can reconvene for dinner in a couple hours," she suggested. She and America walked out and Nicoletta led her to her bedroom.

Using a key she had in her back pocket, she unlocked the aged wooden door. She held it open for her guest and followed her inside. America gave the room a cursory once-over and set her bag on the mahogany chest at the foot of the bed.

Nicoletta stayed at the door. "You know, whatever happened between you and Maxon, it may be better for you to stay here."

"I'd agree if it weren't for the fact that I have a son I need to take care of," she sighed, sitting down on the chest next to her bed.

Nicoletta walked to sit by her. "And a country now. I just think…I think you should stay for three days at the least."

America looked at her. "Three days?"

"Three days." Nicoletta nodded and patted America's knee. "I'll see you at dinner," she called cheerily as she walked out, leaving America in silence.

* * *

Rain pattered on America's umbrella as she and Nicoletta stood on the tar mat. "Thank you for everything," America whispered as she hugged Nicoletta tightly.

"Any time, and I mean that. Do come back soon."

She shrugged. "Or you could come visit us."

Nicoletta nodded. "You're right I suppose. But you know, my wedding will probably be here within a year…I guess this is goodbye until then."

"I guess so." America hugged her one last time and walked to the steps of the plane, turning back to wave to her friend.

She had finally gotten settled on the flight when the steward came to her with the phone. "Your Majesty, we have an urgent message from Angeles for you."

She nodded to him to give her the phone. She put it against her ear. "Queen America here," she answered.

"Your Supreme Majesty," she recognized the voice as one of their personal guards. "I regret to have to report this over the phone but His Majesty the King, Maxon Schreave, died this morning."

**Ooooh shoot! What's going to happen? Please review!**


	58. Chapter 58

"_I give you this one thought to keep – I am with you still, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not think of me as gone, I am with you still – in every morning dawn." – Native American Prayer for Grieving_

* * *

America walked down the quiet hallway of the palace. She wasn't sleeping well and she found it soothing to just walk around the dark hallways of the palace. With no flashlight or any illumination to guide her, she walked quietly in her bare feet, careful to not awaken the ghosts.

She would pass the door to Queen Amberly's room and considered knocking, knowing that there was no way the queen was asleep. She had been refusing to leave her bedroom since the death of her son and even went as far as deciding that she would not be attending his funeral. Christian did not understand and would not be able to stay quiet the entire time, so he would be staying as well. That left America to go alone.

It wasn't the ideal situation but she knew she had absolutely no choice in whether or not to go, no matter how deep her grief was. Why had she been so stupid? Every other time she had left for a trip since they'd gotten married she would be terrified that he would die while she was gone but it did not even cross her mind when she was in Italy.

Unlike her fantasy world she'd created for herself in her journal, Maxon did not leave any helpful notes for her for how to run the country. She had herself and Queen Amberly but she could hardly ask the woman for help; not with the state the queen was in.

She crept back into her bedroom and lay in bed staring at the ceiling until her maids came in. Even then she refused to get out of bed. By waking up, it would be admitting that today was the day that her husband was finally laid to rest. The door opened and Aspen walked in.

He arrived back at the palace shortly before her plane touched down in Angeles. By the time she arrived at the palace, Queen Amberly had barricaded herself in her bedroom and declared that absolutely no one was allowed to see her son, not even America. America didn't know how to feel about that. She didn't know if it would be better or worse for her to see his body. She didn't really know how to feel anything actually.

"Mer, it's time to get out of bed," Aspen said quietly.

She didn't move. She just let the tears slide down her face, collecting on the bridge of her nose. "I don't think I can," she whispered.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and put a hand on her arm, just resting it there. "You can. Trust me. The sun rose this morning; you can do this."

She was a rag doll in his arms when he had finally decided to just lift her out of bed. He set her down on the little black stool in her bathroom and her maids started working on her, slightly hesitant. They let her hair hang loosely around her shoulders. It was dead and dull but they did their best with making it shiny and pristine. They dressed her in a short black dress with tan stockings and her favorite pink heels.

The last thing she needed was to see Christian, who looked so much like his father even at two-years-old that she could hardly stand the sight of him because it broke her heart. She was escorted to the square, surrounded by palace guards. She sat in the stiff throne that was used for such occasions and looked out at the crowds that had gathered in the square to mourn the loss of their king.

To her left was Adele and her oldest children. One of which being her eldest son, the Regent. He would be moving in to the palace in a matter of days to assume his duties. All America could see in him was the gangly boy no older than her, his shoulders hunched over, looking around with scared eyes. She turned her face away from him, not wanting to look at the future hope of the country. He would only rule until after Christian was married and America briefly wondered how much damage could be done in approximately seventeen years. _A lot…a lot of damage could be done_, a voice in her head answered.

The ornate casket holding her husband's body was brought out to the temporary stage and the priest addressed the crowd, moaning out his Latin prayers. America was very much aware of the cameras trained on her face, waiting for her to break down. But she knew that she had to stay strong. She would not crack in front of them.

As the priest signed the cross over the casket and passed the reins of the ceremony over to an adviser, a guard approached another guard standing by her and whispered something in his ear urgently. The other guard asked him something in a hushed tone and the new guard answered shortly. In a signal America didn't recognize, the guard told the other ones standing around her to close ranks and he walked off with the new guard.

America was more than suspicious but she could not leave her husband's funeral. She checked her watch and groaned internally; there was another forty-five minutes. Multiple advisers spoke their praises of their king and the local chamber choir sang ballads and the national anthem. Finally, the priest got back up on the podium and did the final prayers before the guards carried the casket off the stage and went on their way to deliver it to the royal tomb in the cemetery nearby.

She felt as if she could not get back inside the palace soon enough but she was not allowed to run and the guards seemed to be pacing her. Once inside, she was approached by a maid. "Ma'am, we must speak with you about the ball being held in a couple weeks in honor of the king."

America sighed and waved her off, continuing her journey to the nursery to find Christian. "It can wait, I'm sure. I would like to see my son."

Lucy suddenly appeared and stepped in front of America, blocking her path. "Miss America, I think you should change out of your clothes first," she squeaked out.

"No, I'm going to see my son," America snapped at them. She pushed past them all and rounded the corner to the hallway where the nursery was, met with a couple dozen guards and maids bustling about. The doors to the nursery were open.

As soon as they noticed her, everyone stopped moving and hushed. "What's going on?" she asked them all, praying that someone would answer her honestly.

Aspen appeared in front of her. "During the service, there was a security breach," he hedged.

She narrowed her eyes. "Rebels?"

He shook his head. "No, at least not as far as we know. It was your father-in-law. He took Amberly…Christian," he said in a strangled voice.

She suddenly felt like the wind got knocked out of her. She couldn't breathe. Her heart was breaking. It was everything she felt when Maxon rejected her the first time…and it was ten times worse. She felt paralyzed but at the same time felt that she needed to run. Run faster than she had ever run before because maybe, if she ran fast enough, she would be able to get her son back. It was irrational; but in a devastated mind it made sense.

Her son, all she had left of Maxon…taken.

**That's all! Sorry it took a bit longer to update; I've had lots of homework and tests lately. Please review!**

**P.S. I should have the epilogue posted by tonight! **

**P.P.S. Anyone else having trouble downloading iOS 7? it keeps telling me that the update is unavailable and to try installing it later. whatevs I guess.**


	59. Chapter 59

"_I walk down memory lane because I love running into you."_

* * *

Sliding behind a velvet woven tapestry, she walked down the underground corridor to the cathedral. She had never been a praying person but she felt that all there was left for her to do was to pray to some higher power.

She sat, slouched down in her throne, fiddling with one of her heels with her foot. The late afternoon light shone through the windows, casting her in a golden glow. Aspen and a few other guards entered the cathedral, walking down the center aisle. They were returning from searching her bedroom and office for all of her work.

"Gone…all gone," she whispered, testing the word. She didn't like the way it tasted. She avoided looking at them because she was tired of seeing their pitiful gazes. "Don't tell me anything I don't already know," she warned, rising from her throne and pushing through them.

Aspen followed her back down the long aisle. "What now?" he asked.

"We do what we have to do." She turned to face them, looking into the faces of the men she would have to trust more than her own life in order to carry out her plan. "The only thing we can do to get rid of Clarkson." She did an about face and started walking back out with them following. "We bring back the United States."

* * *

The dry leaves crunched underneath America's boots as she walked across the cemetery. The guards at the gate of the royal plot let her in, not even suspecting anything out of the ordinary. She walked into the giant marble mausoleum and lit a few candles out of respect. She looked at all of the names of royal predecessors and relatives of the Schreave family, tracing her fingers over their names etched in the marble. Her hand paused when she came across Maxon's name. She placed the flowers she had brought and set them against the marble wall.

Her hand closed around the handle to the slot his body had been slid into. Then she took it off, starting to shake. "Maxon…" she sighed. "I feel ridiculous, standing here and talking to a wall but I had to come. You're all I have left. And we had that stupid argument before I left and I regret everything I said. If I could talk to you now, I would apologize a thousand times. We had such little time together and it's ridiculous for it to have ended so poorly." She paused, trying to collect her thoughts and sort out the million things she wanted to say. "You see, your father took back the crown. He took Christian too. I am so sorry. There was nothing I could have done or your mother could have done. He took off to some remote location and he's ruling from there while raising our son."

She swallowed her grief. She didn't want to cry anymore. "I can't help but feel that I failed you. I know I failed our son but I feel like you would've never let this happen. I'm just not as strong as you are I guess." She looked away for a few moments. "I didn't want it to end this way." She pulled the flowers out from her bag and laid them on the floor.

"But I'm going to take back the throne. I'm going to get our son back. I'm not going down without a fight and your father is going to learn that the hard way. It's what you would do if you were in my position. I'm not going to let you down," she promised. Finally, with a deep breath, she pulled open the drawer with Maxon's name on it.

"I knew it," she whispered to herself.

**Sooooo…I didn't want to tell you guys until the end because I didn't want to give any hints about the ending…buuuuuuutttt…I am doing a sequel. This book will probably be shorter, more intense, and definitely worth reading! Now, I'm not posting it probably for another month (I'm not making any promises) because I want to get a lot of it done before I post it so I can just go and update without having to write much at the time. So that's it in this book. Thanks so much for the dedication! Please review!**


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